


Ben's Dilemma

by Littlemistake, LostInQueue



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Art Project, Art show, Based on American Vandal, Crack, F/M, Fluff, Growing Up, High School setting to start, Masterbation, Modeling, No Underage Sex, Rey & Ben are the same age, Rey’s thirsty, Sculpture, Semi nude Ben Solo, Senior art project equals half the grade, Socially Awkward Ben Solo, american vandal AU, very slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2020-09-24 01:37:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20350216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlemistake/pseuds/Littlemistake, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostInQueue/pseuds/LostInQueue
Summary: Both Ben and Rey are finishing out their senior year of high school with  a mandatory art project at Cloud City Academy. It's a huge event that  Mrs. Holdo is banking on more funding for the academy, but Rey knows  different. Rey's bent on sticking it to her by outing Holdo in the process. Along comes Ben Solo, a socially awkward student and film major,  who she winds up being paired with for this year's event. Things could  not work out any better... or could they?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andabatae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andabatae/gifts).

> This fic is for Andabatae's prompt:
> 
> American Vandal AU. Ben is the weird kid making a documentary to investigate who drew the dicks.  
Rey drew them (shhh)

[](https://ibb.co/Pt3xT2g)

Being a high school student has its ups and downs, any kid knows that, but Ben seems to pay no mind most of the time.

Each day is a new day at Cloud City Academy. 

It could be the day Ben’s peers finally care about their subject areas the way he does. It could be the day they listen to every fact he shares. It could be the day Armitage Hux stops shouting everything he says at every turn too.  
The thought of Armitage stops his forward thinking, spurring him look around for his classmate and part-time tormentor. It’s not that Ben doesn’t like Armitage, it’s more that the guy makes him nervous. Ben’s nervous energy, when activated makes him fidgety and want—no—need to be right, no matter what the occasion.

Just yesterday he did his best to get under Ben’s skin, and Ben, being the know it all he is, proved that even if his skin was broken, Armitage couldn’t actually get there. 

That caused a huge panic in the office, having Armitage tease him in front of the faculty about pulling a scab just to show that he couldn’t physically get under there. The woman at the front desk gave Armitage detention for continuing to egg Ben on. It wasn’t necessarily for what he was doing to Ben but about what it was doing to her instead.

“I just don’t see how you can say that you can get under my skin,” Bun rolls up his sleeve to give him another example of why he can’t physically do it.

“Boys!” A lady’s voice seems clear but distant while Ben did his best to prove it to Armitage that the kid was wrong. “—Do not do that in here!”

The woman covered her mouth and ran out of the office. Apparently, blood bothered her. That didn’t make sense to Ben either. She’s got most of the same parts, including blood, so what’s the problem?

This time though, there is no scab. Ben already used that of a mosquito bite’s clotted covering to show Armitage that he was just wrong in class, but perhaps he needed to see from a new cut.

“What are you doing?” Armitage raised an eyebrow at Ben, who’s holding some artifact with what looks like a sharp blade. His eyes widen when he figures out the kid has a dagger but then leans in. “Another demonstration?” he asked.  
Ben assured him it was and that he would help him see that he’s not right readying the pewter colored blade against his pale skin.

“What are you two doing?!” A booming voice sounded behind them startling Ben, into his fight or flight mode. The boy nearly always chose to fight first too - but not in the physical sense. Fighting with logic truly seemed to work with his parents who would listen to his hour-long spiels. It has yet to work in the school environment though. Clearly, he wasn’t getting through.

This only amplified his frustration when he opened his mouth to speak up for himself. Armitage laughed, sitting back in his chair, waving Ben off. He took it, of course, as if he was being given the floor to speak.

Yet, getting the floor didn’t seem to get him anywhere.

While those still in the office and the teacher was present, Ben kept his mouth moving spitting facts as if they mattered. He couldn’t quite grasp the concept that he first, brought a knife to school, albeit an old knife, but still a knife, and was willing to cause harm to himself.

The staff said they had no other choice, he remembers, giving Armitage a simple “go back to class” and him a Saturday Detention.

The thought of it made his skin crawl. He’d never been a troublemaker. He’d never been called on for acting out. It didn’t add up. What was so wrong about proving a point?

Even worse was his parents had to be notified and not even they were understanding what he was saying. Stress ate him alive when his mother acquired it too. It took him enough convincing that he was mature enough to hold onto a piece of his grandfather’s history. Six years in fact... Ben remembers this clearly being one of the crowning achievements of his life.

The man was a war hero, his idol. Ben would do anything to learn more about Grandpa Skywalker and his parents would use his memorabilia as rewards along the way, but that knife had been the hardest one to get a hold of.  
Mom will never let him have it back now.

(For what? Taking it to school? Proving his point that Armitage clearly didn’t understand?

Ben sighs as he finally reaches the door, opening it to who else but Armitage himself.

What are the odds?

“So, how did it go last night?” Armitage prods.

Ben points his finger towards Armitage, holding it close to his chest, “I lost my Grandpa’s knife trying to teach you about your body.”

Kids around them start to snicker at his choice of words which Ben can only assume are pointed at Armitage for being an idiot.

“If you listened to me, this would never have happened! Now I can’t even get it back…” Ben leans in closer to the boy.

“You don’t think it has anything to do with bringing a weapon to school and causing yourself physical harm?” Armitage presses back. “That’s not my fault you dolt.”

“You’re the dolt!” Ben steps just one more foot closer to him.

“You know it’s not cleaver to repeat an insult? Right?” he snorts, unphased by the boy’s closeness, shoulder checking him as he walks past him.

Ben stands in the hall, his finger still pointed at the boy in question as he laughs with his buddies on the way to class.)  
___  
Because of the influx of kids in school and the focus on subjects, Cloud City Academy hosts block scheduling on an A/B rotated schedule which means “A” days are his core classes while “B” days are filled with electives. Ben’s electives focus on film, but today, they’re interrupted by a class wide project he had only studied about the project from the moment he made it into the academy when he was a freshman. Projects excite the boy. He loves the challenge, the need to get the right answer and the glory of being the best in the room.

Excitement seems to fluctuate as the students move through the hall electrifying his own as they pass him, nodding and laughing along with them as if he is a part of their conversation. He isn’t though and it seems to be noticed by everyone but him. Once they reach the auditorium Ben, along with the rest of the student body, notices the setup. Art is hung from years past on each wall, while their band plays an outstanding number Ben feels rush through him.

Sure, they all have heard of this to some degree but there’s nothing quite like living it. His imagination runs away with him as they play, wondering what it would be like to have such resources at his fingertips. It would surely change things for his documentaries. Maybe he’ll be put with a musician, they’re within the arts, he jerkily nods at himself. His movement calls attention upon him, it’s the head of the Art Department, Mrs. Holdo. Her voice cuts through his imagination in an instant bringing him back to Earth, to a point.

Ben blinks a few times then replies to Mrs. Holdo with, “Hello,” gaining him an exasperated sigh from her that he can only slightly hear over the waves of giggles around him. The student body has all sat down, even separated by boys and girls, sitting as a sea of red in the grey clothed seats sitting directly in front of the stage.

Cloud City Academy holds itself high on their standards and that includes what the students wear being uniforms. Ben can feel his hands move to fix his tie, even though it’s clipped to his shirt, eliciting yet another wave of sound that is quickly hushed by the same woman.

“Mr. Solo, can you please take a seat? We’re waiting on you,” she waves to the right where the boys are to sit.

Ben stands in the auditorium, forgetting for the moment that Mrs. Holdo and the entire student body is waiting for him to take a seat.

The problem is - he always sits in the center, five rows from the top, which ensures that he maximizes both the acoustic and visual quality of the school’s equipment. Right now, that particular spot is occupied by a sea of girls.  
He is frozen, quite unsure of what to do.

“Ben,” Mrs. Holdo presses impatiently. “I need you to go to the boy’s section. We’re all waiting on you,” she repeats herself.

Ben looks around at the spaces one more time deciphering on whether or not this will upset his chances of seeing the screen. Here, behind even the tallest girl, he can still see the majority of the screen. Why would he want to move back to the back row all the way on the other side of the row? That doesn’t make any sense at all. The more he studies the space, he finds a dip between bodies right in the center, and then again in the front row on the aisle! How lucky can he get?

He stands right up, shuffling his way out of his chair, patting down his grey slacks and fixing the hem of his red cable knit sweater the majority of the student body wore during these cooler spring months, before moving down the aisle to his new spot missing the way Mrs. Holdo clearly glared at him.

“Great,” she says briskly, “are you ready to proceed?”

“Yes,” Ben returns comfortably.

From there Mrs. Holdo enlightens the room that every year the Art Department welcomes all of the subjects into theirs to complete their high school experience with one last mandatory event, the art show. Sighs are heard around the room in unison. Ben assumes they’re all as content with this as he is while he waits for the next part… the one he’s truly after.

“This year’s theme is based on the age-old struggle between ‘Good and Evil’. You will have two months’ time to create your installation and it must be up the day before the show in the main gallery. More information on this will be on the handouts that are coming around now.”

Ben is sure to grab two as they’re passed around. One to keep for his records and the other for his project. He always did this in every class which eventually made the teachers remember to have more than enough for people like him. 

“You’ll all be partnering up with an aspect of the Arts Department which also includes Music and Theater to complete your assignment. Please go ahead and look under your seats for your numbers. Once you have them, I will call out the number, matching students will stand and take a seat next to your partners.” Mrs. Holdo takes a steadying breath, looking at Ben first, then adding, “I’ll start with the highest numbers first and work my way back to one.”

Ben frowns, looking at his number, then back up at her.

His number is one.

Wait! Ben throws his hand up in the air, demanding attention, but she doesn’t budge, calling numbers as she said she would.

Finally, she made her way to three, two, and… Ben looked up to see her take a sip of her water. Well, that was a lot to say, he thinks. His brow furrows at the size of their graduating class being of the smallest in Cloud City’s attendance of not much more than a hundred students.

“And one,” Ben stands and looks around, waiting for the one that he’s supposed to team up with finding some girl sitting alone, clearly not paying attention to anything at all.

She’s clicking a pen over and over again next to her ear, most of her weight trained to the onside of her body where she leans on an armrest with authority. His eyes travel over her disheveled look with distaste. Her socks are pushed down instead of pulled high, her blouse isn’t even tucked into the waist of her skirt, and from what he can tell, her sweater is tied around her waist too. Tied!

This is his partner??

He can’t help but let his eyes travel back up her body noticing ink work drawn up her other arm, hidden only by the rolled cuff of her sleeve. He’s so entranced by both it and the very fact that she’s too young to have a tattoo. How’d she get it? Did she do it herself? Does she know how dangerous that is?

The clicking of her pen stops abruptly as she flicks a cream-colored item out of her ear that looks as if it’s been weaved into her hair to avoid being found. He finds himself fighting with the notion that it was well planned and smart verses being strictly against the rules, yet again.

Ben stands motionless for far too long, gaining her attention whether he wants it or not.

Her head cocks to the side, tilting up and back, her gaze is intimidating. He can’t stop himself from taking a step back instead of forward to introduce himself.

“Ben Solo?” she looks him over, smirking as she does. Then her eyes shoot forward at Mrs. Holdo who is waiting for their succession. “You’re in film, aren’t you?”

Mrs. Holdo’s frown is apparent. She did try to keep him from that spot, but she listens on, watching her most frustrating student challenge her system.

“Aren’t you supposed to be placed with a nerd?” Rey deadpans.

The entire auditorium goes silent.

Ben, for the first time in his life, doesn’t know how to respond. He was always considered a nerd. Why doesn’t she consider him one?

“No answer, eh?” Rey nods, pressing her lips together, trying not to show her satisfaction in the matter. She nudges her earbud back in before grabbing her slouch bag to throw it over her shoulder and leave.  
“Where are you going?” Ben asks nervously.

“To do research,” she replies, purposely using her fingers to display quotations marks. “You comin’ Solo?”

Ben swallows so thickly his Adam’s apple bobs harshly. Every fiber in his being tells him to stay and listen for state regulated instruction, but this hazel-eyed firecracker beside him rips a hole through his rational thought. Each step in her direction feels as though he’s got cement blocks attached to his feet. No step is easier than the other, especially not when he hears the crowd stir behind them and Mrs. Holdo holler, “Solo! Sands! Get back here you two, you are not excused! We’re not done yet!”

Ben can’t help but live in the terror this student is putting him through. He’s never gone against the grain. What is he going to do now? What can he lose?

Rey leads Ben straight to her locker. She throws her bag in, replacing it with a different one. This one is smaller, looking sort of like a mail bag or satchel.

“Don’t you need that?” Ben can’t help but ask.

“Nah, that’s school stuff. When I leave, it stays,” she shrugs.

“You don’t get homework?” Ben asks gaining him a hard look.

“Nah,” Rey answers.

“How?” he asks, knowing full well that they were supposed to be getting anywhere from four to six hours of homework nightly.

“I’m a senior. So, are you? You should know how to get around the system by now Ben, I thought you were a smart guy.” Ben stares at her dumbly. Did she just give him a complement? Is that why his chest feels like it’s about to explode? Is that why he feels himself standing straighter, with a cheese eating grin plastered on his face?

At his silence, she finishes there, nudging him towards the back exit by the gym.

He can’t help the way he feels again, ready to explode at the thought that they might be getting ready to play hooky. Even the word feels odd in his mouth.

“What are we doing?” Ben panics again.

“Research,” Rey answers plainly, pulling the pin from the fire door claiming to be an emergency exit only.

“But the library is back there,” Ben even points back down the hall as if she doesn’t know.

“That’s nice, I don’t need the library for this,” she answers with finality, nodding back to the door.

“Oh, what do you need then?” he frowns not really knowing what she’s talking about now.

“You.” Rey starts thumbing the clicking button on her pen again, gaining an irritating ‘make your decision' sort of sound with it until he answers with a nod.

“What do you need from me?” He can’t help the way his blood seems to run cold now.

“Information mostly. For this to work, I need to know you and you need to know me. Be in the other’s mind. The topic is good versus evil. How do you think we attack that large of a topic without knowing each other, Ben?” Rey stares him down.

“By leaving?” he croaks.

Rey smirks at the sound of it.

“By trusting me. And right now, trust me, we need to eat.”

Ben quirks an eyebrow at her, asking her to explain in a simple movement, but gets dragged out the door by her instead. Her small hand pressed against his bicep does things to him. His body tightens everywhere, making it harder for her to move him.

“Sands!” Mrs. Holdo’s voice carries through the hall, the bell chases her sound right after.

He can feel her push him out the door, the heavy thing swinging closed in an instant, startles him again. He’s in so much trouble, he thinks. This girl is going to be the death of him, he knows it. All of his freedoms—his rewards—will be gone, and for what? Her? He doesn’t even know her!

He follows anyway.

____

Ben sits nervously in the booth at the town diner while he waits for Rey.

She has them out of school, on a school day! During school hours! It’s enough to make his blood run cold. Is he? Is he sweating? Ben’s hand shakes as he reaches his brow to check, the moment the pads of his fingers touch the ¬ perspiring skin just under his hairline, he confirms it. Is he having a heart attack? Ben can’t help but reach for his arm to make sure.

It’s then when he sees Sands make her way back to him. She looks just as disheveled as she did when they were in school. He frowns trying to remember what she said she needed to do… didn’t she say she needed to fix herself? He could only imagine she meant brush her windblown hair, but not even that was mildly tamed.

Why’d she even go in the first place?

“What are you missing now?” Sands asks.

“Um, what?” he croaks.

Rey turns on her phone, glancing at the time.

“Its 11:29am; what are you missing? What class?”

Ben shakily sighs, running his hand through his hair a few times before trying to settle back into the booth, “Um. That’s, uh. That’s English.”

“CP or AP?” Sands asks, leaning on the table toward him.

What is it about this girl that makes him feel like running?

“Um, AP,” Ben replies, his voice strains when he does.

Rey nods, “Biology here.”

Silence stretches between them until she asks, “first time out?”

“Uh, yeah...” he answers nervously. His eyes keep darting around waiting for someone to notice a couple of kids out of school.

He watches nervously as her small hand covers his fidgeting ones.

“Hey, calm down, would ya? No one here is gonna care that we skipped, okay?”

Ben can’t seem to pry his thoughts away from the fact that she’s touching him. Besides holding his mother’s hand when he was younger, or shaking hands with people at church, holding a girl’s hand certainly isn’t something he considered doing until now. Her palm’s so soft he doesn’t realize how hard her callouses are when she wraps her fingers around his.

“Ben. You’re going to be fine. I’ve been doing this since the eighth grade,” Rey says, throwing a look over her shoulder, “My cousin Jyn runs the place. Do you really think I’d put us in danger, Ben Solo?”

His attention to her remains on where they’re connected.

“Ben?” Rey removes her hand from his, startling him from his thoughts.

“Oh, um, uh... well...” Ben stumbles over his words at the loss of her touch.

“It’s okay. I was nervous my first time out too. But it got easier the more I’ve gone out,” she shrugs.

“W-why? I mean, why do you do it?” Ben asks, genuinely confused as to why she does it in the first place.

“Helps me unwind,” Rey shrugs.

To Ben’s surprise, a large plate of loaded nachos is placed in front of them.

“I hope you don’t mind. This is my usual,” she says, offering him a plate from the stack.

Ben just stares wondering how this girl can put down as much food as what’s in front of them. This can’t be her usual. It looks like there’s enough for more than them.

“Ben, eat,” she instructs, and he listens.

“What, um...What does this have to do with research?” Ben finds himself loading his plate as she is asking her nervously. “I mean what are we learning right now?”

“Mhmm,” she crunches through a mouthful. “I thought you’d ask sooner,” she points to him thoughtfully. “We’re getting to know each other, I mean, I know about you Ben Solo, but I don’t know you, and I prefer to know who I’m working with... especially on a project that’s worth half my grade.”

Ben coughs, “Half your grade? For one class?”

“Nope,” she shifts in her seat, reaching for another helping, giving him the specifics. “I’m an art major, Ben. Half my classes are AP Art which means by doing this she can control whether or not I pass or fail. As in, I can stay back, if it’s not perfect.”

Ben can hardly believe what he’s hearing. This can’t be right. Dropping his chip’s toppings while he stares at her in disbelief, Ben repeats her, asking, “Pass or fail?”

“Yep!” She readies the next chip with extra cheese and jalapeños, her look catching him off guard. “Holdo thinks by doing this she can control what goes in her art show. It’s her crowning achievement every year, why she’s so keen on making it a big deal. She likes to say she’s ‘reached’ everyone in the school and that the art department is the reason for the student body’s success as a whole. It’s not, and she knows it, but funds will stop coming in if she doesn’t prove her worth every year. And so, she tortures is with this assignment.”

Ben’s brow furrows in disbelief.

“Don’t believe me? Research it… I bet a documentary on Holdo would really fly. Make her sound like the hero in your story until you figure it all out.”

It’s not a bad idea, he agrees, adding that he has the equipment for it.

“Perfect, now we have to just figure out the diversion,” Rey says, jotting down their notes in ink on her skin.

“Diversion?” Ben asks, cringing at the sight.

“Well, yeah. The topic is good versus evil. If you start doing a documentary on her, don’t you think she’ll figure out she’s your muse? You know she won’t go for that. Being found out as the bad guy would really dick us over,” she says with finality.

Ben chokes on his soda due to her choice of words, pretending such a thing did not come from her.

“So, what does the topic mean to you?” 

It’s hard enough to get started. She’s just so overpowering with her thoughts, when she adds in, he doesn’t always have an answer for her, making her wait. Ben finds he’s having trouble with the amount of time he waits trying to find the answers she’s looking for. To Ben, good people are genuine and bad people are criminals. Telling her this gave him blank stares he couldn’t seem to navigate on his own.

“Okay,” she nods simply, offering him the last bite. “Let me think on this… what’s your number?”

“My number?” Ben swallows. He’s never been asked for his number. Does he have a number? Of course, he has one… “Um…”

Rey snatches his phone from his hand as he retrieves it, adding her number as Rey with a sunshine on either side, then texts herself.

“Stick with me, Ben,” she says, “I’ll show you everything.”

Later that day, on the wall, he saw it. A picture of a dick. Just one lonely dick. At first - he wasn’t sure what it was. Because as far as dicks went, given that he was an owner of one, he could tell it was neither anatomically correct, nor as aesthetically pleasing as dicks could be. So, it took him a moment to work it out. 

Perhaps the artist did not have access to a dick model in the flesh?

From an artistic sense - he thought the owner could use some pointers in terms of fine detailing and really making the dick come to life - as it were.

From a society going to hell sense - he couldn’t stand by as crude and poorly rendered phallus' were plastered all over school property.


	2. Chapter 2

Saturday comes bright and early and Ben’s the first one in line to serve his detention. His mind is full of ideas for the documentary, setting up how to go about filming and overlays, what he’ll write for the narrative, so many thoughts start rushing through his mind at the same time, he finds himself knocking on the library door to get in sooner.

The thought of Rey’s grade being pass or fail sits heavily in his mind. That doesn’t seem fair, and if this side project could shed some light on her situation, Ben thinks he can do it.  
Another pound on the library door opens it to an annoyed school aide.

The woman lets him and the other several students inside for the long haul. Paying no mind to her expression, Ben makes a bee line for a clear table, hoping no one bothers him today. He has work to do and intends on doing it.

About an hour in, the door swings open, making everyone, including him turn to figure out the commotion. Before he can look, his phone vibrates beside him.

It’s Rey.

_Come to the window._

Ben scoots backwards in his chair, collecting his notes before standing, alerting the aid that he needed to find a book.

_Don’t tell her, Ben!  
You’ll blow our cover…_

Cover? he questions without texting her back. Inching his way through the aisle, to the window, he finds her. Seeing her in ripped jeans and a hoodie is odd. Even he followed the school’s dress code given he is on school grounds and believes he needs to follow the rules as it is.

“Saturday, huh? You rebel. What did you do to get this one?” she smirks, crossing her legs as she stands before him.

At his silence, she adds, “That bad, huh? Could it stand to get worse?”

“Worse?” he croaks.

“Yeah. Ditch it and come out with me. We’ve got work to do anyway—” the girl laughs, “think of it as research.”

Skipping is an awful idea. He already did it yesterday and felt like he was dying. The guilt of not being in class ate at him and he was sure he’d be caught. That was the last thing he needed, his mother finding out. Oddly enough, no one said anything to him and Rey’s standing just outside the glass, asking him to join her, again...

“How?” he finally asks.

“You think you could climb through the window?” she smiles.

He leans forward trying to do it because of the way she looks at him.

“Oh, Ben!” she whisper shouts at him, her hands pressing his shoulders back inside… “I was kidding! I have sent someone to collect you.”

“What?” he groans trying to back out of the window.

“I’m bustin’ you out, Solo. Just go to the desk and follow her out,” Rey says, waiting for him to nod before adding, “Room 504, Ben.”

Dead, he’s dying. Ben knows this much is true. Hooky twice? He could get Saturdays for the rest of the year!

And yet, he follows her directions, again.

___

Ben’s always ignored this section of the school. The fine arts wing always smelled like combined chemicals, dust and smoke. It’s nothing he really wanted to sit and breathe in on a daily basis, especially not when the photography lab had to be aired out. Those smells made him see stars and if they could do that, he’s sure it couldn’t be good for him.

The thought of Rey’s body art comes up right after, making him wonder what it was that inspired her to do such a thing to hers. He remembers the way it looked under the auditorium light, golden and soft, despite the markings she added. Why did she do it again? Did he ask? Ben shakes his head remembering nothing about it. Would she expect him to do the same? Thinking about it makes his skin crawl. She wouldn’t cross that line. Right?  
Next the thought of her touching him in the diner comes into view. What did it feel like again? He’d been so wrapped up in panic it was hard to feel anything. Tentatively, Ben covers one hand with another just to get the chance to relive that sensation. 

The girl Rey sent for him walked him just out of view of the library and told him he was on his own, making him wonder if everyone cheated the system. A dose of reality slapped him hard in the face the second he blamed her of this. He’s in deep now, a second time offender...

To get to the art room from there from the library he had to pass the office, which he was unsure whether or not anyone was there, then wind down the hall, pass the cafeteria, get to the stairwell in the six hundred. It, it just... it couldn’t be done... without the note! 

Argh! Ben complains, searching for anything that could possibly cut it, looking like a note that Mrs. Holdo would send. It can’t just be a piece of paper, he knows this. She was the single teacher in the whole building whose notes couldn’t be replicated. Simply saying a student’s note came from Mrs. Holdo began an investigation of color and pen usage. 

It then occurs to him that his escort’s pass had been accepted by the aide. Did she know about the note system? Does it matter on the weekend? 

Ben’s pulse quickens, worrying about the shape and color of the note, constantly reminding himself that he could get caught... 

This can’t be happening! Ben hid his frustration burying his head in his in the crook of his arm to silence an oncoming panic attack. Several times he thought of Rey waiting for him and wondered what she was even doing here. Getting him out of his Saturday detention couldn’t possibly be research. Unless her answer to getting her way was research, he wondered. 

All the while, his nerves steadily ate at him making it harder and harder to focus. Being that there really was only one option after being “summoned by Holdo,” Ben’s resolute action is to pretend that scrap of paper was his pass and figure out how to get all six foot three inches of him to the art department without being caught.

Only, there’s no one there. No one in the office. No aides checking passes at every corner. No one. Noticing this doesn’t give him any more ease though. Instead, Ben’s sure the stress alone has shaved a few years off from his life by the time he gets all the way downstairs to the five hundreds. 

“Five... oh, two... five, oh, four, Ben assures himself even though his hand shakes as he wills it to reach for the knob. 

This art room is unlike any he’d seen or smelled for that matter. It’s easily the cleanest looking room he’s been, and the largest besides the gymnasium considering the lines mirrors on the left side. Across from them were large windows with various style shades which he figured he’d ask about later after being startled from his thoughts by Rey.

“Glad to see you made it,” he hears her say, dropping his hand’s open again.

“Uh, y-yeah,” he answers shakily.

Rey waves him into the room and his skin crawls waiting for an array of smells to hit him but they don’t. It’s as if she knew. 

The room itself was merely that, less the large windows and mirrored back wall. There were no bins, no storage of any kind, which he’s sure is why it doesn’t smell in here. Inside, there have got to be fifteen, if not twenty standing easels fanned out, angled with their side facing a platform in a semi-circle. All with a large clipboard, holding paper under the clamp. 

“What is all of this?” he finds the courage to ask.

Rey holds a black stick, of something that could be chalk, dirtying her thumb and fingers as she rolls the item between her fingers.

“Research, Ben,” she says, nodding him in towards the platform in the center. “I thought long and hard on your concept of good versus evil and you know what I came up with?”

Ben’s answer is almost immediate the moment he perched himself on the side of the platform, “What?”

“I think you’re wrong,” she says flatly.

“How? Why?” Ben’s need to be right seems to take over while he surveys the room’s scene.  
The art room they’re in studies the human form, that much he’s figured out. What with the work as evidence of nude models pinned to the wall and all. Ben’s mouth goes dry, trying to process a forward thought when his eyes connect with a sculpture used for human anatomy.

His eyes dart to hers, and back to the sculpture, mortified when her heads turns in his direction. Rey looks at him then back to the models telling him they’re posable... that it helps when there’s no model. Ben blushes harder still. In a way he’s sure he won’t live through this. Death by blushing. It could happen, right?

“I think,” Rey carries on, seemingly unfazed by the development, informing him, “that you’re wrong. There is no such thing as good versus evil.”

His gaze snaps to hers almost immediately, saving him from the genitalia, but not from Rey’s amused look.

“Hear me out. What if we’re all playing into the enemy as the hero? What if the enemy believes they’re the hero? What if it cancels itself out? What if we’re killing ourselves to be right? But what if they are too?”

Her argument is there. The more she gives examples the more she’s pushing for their side project to fall in line with the department’s ideal standards.

“We’ll do a series of different time periods, one dressed, one nude—”

NUDE?! Ben’s brain halts altogether, pinning her in place with a frightened look on his face.

“The rules don’t say anything about it. Besides, tasteful nudes,” she throws her thumb behind her, “aren’t porn. I want to show what civilization weighs as a hero versus an enemy in uniform and compare the same stance as a nude to drive the point home that a person is just a vessel for ideas. We are the messenger, so to speak.”

Ben nods dumbly at this, giving her consent but finding it to be just too hard to move now.

“Easy big guy,” she comforts him. “Today is just about getting you comfortable and your form right on paper. 

Ben nods again, fixing to sit, when he hears her move to the first easel. Paper crinkles while he looks forward, her hand moving expertly around the page without looking at it. She’s studying him… it’s both exhilarating and frightening at the same time, he thinks, and it’s certainly better than sitting in his Saturday detention. Idly he wonders what it would be like if he can truly get into this role with her, where he’s her muse. What would that be like?

Before he knows it, she’s moved to the next one. On and on, and again she moves throughout the room like its nothing, because she’s most clearly a pro, until she’s done. The moment she is, Rey wipes her brow, removing her sweatshirt to knot around her waist making Ben gulp in the process. If she notices the change in him, she doesn’t call him out for it. Instead, Rey hands him the black stick, telling him to try, taking up her first pose.

He looks at her like she’s got three heads.

“I’m, um…”

“Just try, Ben. Consider it an exercise…homework… it’s homework, Ben. Now try.”

___

Drawing Rey makes his head spin. How was she able to capture his features? And why did she draw him without clothes on? At least he tried to draw her with hers on he remembers. Their time together this weekend lingers in his mind while he floats off to his first period.

Just outside the classroom, he finds a mark on the wall that doesn’t belong in the mural there. He’s seen it enough times to know that there shouldn’t be something black in the center of the yellow handprint on the ‘helping hands’ artwork he’s passed since freshman year. Of course, he reports it as soon as he gets into class, stirring up his peers as he goes.

It isn’t the only one either. Dicks keep appearing all over the school. The last one he finds is on a drawing Rey created for research on Saturday, pushing Ben into a frenzy.

That’s the last straw, he thinks, making every indication that he would get to the bottom of this, reaching for his phone, he starts recording the image with a promise that he would find the person who vandalized their work together with a poorly drawn dick.

The more time he takes examining it, he notices that it’s not only there but drawn in another medium. Whatever Rey had them using on Saturday wasn’t the same here. It was clearly pen, certainly a ballpoint pen, something he’s been using instead of the flowing ink ones that would always make his hands dirty. Not only is it that, but its black, sticky ink clumped in certain places that included the elementary scribbling under the head of it and another down the shaft that connected oddly to two very pronounced balls. Whoever drew it clearly didn’t know a male’s anatomy. Balls don’t look like that. Those clearly looked like actual balls… It was wrong. All of it was wrong. But the worst of it is that it’s on their work.

Ben hears snickering behind him but is too concerned with the drawing and culprit he’s now swearing to catch in the act to care. He picks up his phone, messaging Rey the moment he’s completed his initial survey.

**Have you seen this?**

_Seen what?_

Ben debates whether or not to cover the evidence, finally deciding that he should. Rey wouldn’t want the image of a penis on her figure drawing. It’s not even hidden. It’s just... there... on their work, in what she called free space.

He remembers her talking about different styles of art and what it all meant, of course he already knew some of it being that film required a few classes, but the modeling stuff was frightening. He did his absolute best to avoid it mostly because he couldn’t see it for more than being exposed. 

Rey told him that the art created here is mostly for practice, explaining that the ones she made of him are not really naked.

“The figure drawing is the quick sketch of the form finding muscle mass based on the position of the figure. Adding clothes makes it harder to see, mistakes can be made, and in this show needs to be perfect.” Rey’s eyes trailed over his shoulders, down his torso and he felt as though he was naked, even in the layers of his uniform. “The body’s job is to tell a story. Different positions, poses, clothed or nude, can distort the message. Think of this like… learning a new language.”

“Body language?” Ben remembers the way that his voice cracked, his cheeks burn even now when he thinks about it.

But Rey, comfortable with herself and her surroundings, merely added, “Yep.”

He thought long and hard about body language and how learning it might help with their predicament. While he always believed it wasn’t a necessary tool to tell when someone was fibbing or otherwise, Ben dissected the possibilities of what this language could tell him. Would it help him get to the bottom of Mrs. Holdo’s project? Would it help with this project Rey’s covering up with? Would it help win his nervousness around the girl?

Ben’s mind wanders back from their conversation to the present, his fingers pushing a kneaded eraser to the page to try to at least lighten the load, just hanging there, when he hears a familiar voice behind him. 

Armitage, the kid he’s been trying to be friends with since the first grade, the one that helped him gain his Saturday detention, has found his way beside him, commenting about where his hand rests, gaining onlookers from his crude words.

Ben, who still has yet to learn Rey’s proposed language, hunches over the marking, looks back at Armitage. An awkward silence hanged between the two of them.

“I guess so then,” Armitage smirks, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Ben frowns not sure of what to say, starts rubbing the eraser against the page.

“You know, it’s never going to get off...” the boy cracked over his shoulder. “Your technique is all wrong.”

More snickers fill the room.

“My technique?” Ben questions him.

“You know, the way you’re rubbing it?” Armitage adds nearly losing his composure, especially the way his friends start losing theirs. Two of the girls hide their faces in their hands, while another guy leans back with a huge grin on his face, urging him on.

“And how would you suggest I rub it?” Ben deadpans.

The room erupts in laughter and the last student arrives well after the bell. His partner, Rey, finally arrived.

Rey moves silently through the room to Ben, lowering his eraser until his hand drops from the page. She covered his hand with hers again, pinning him in place with her eyes while the other hand worked an exacto knife over the page. She cut out a square, of sorts, that removed the evidence, and put down the blade. Next she took the image, crumbled it between her fingers and turned her focus to Armitage who visibly swallowed when she did.

“Of course, it’s not going to get off just by rubbing it,” she said, gaining the entire room’s attention.

Rey has been known to be brash. The way she didn’t care to wear her uniform properly had been an obvious enough statement about that. No one really knew what she’d do. And just like now, the class waited with stunned expressions to watch her reaction.

Rey places the folded piece of paper in her mouth, just under her tongue for long enough for her to deliver her next line.

“Takes a little spit, wouldn’t you say Armie?” she asks before firing it at him. The thin wet wad of recycled newspaper and ink landed high on his cheek making him back pedal and cringe at the feel of it.

The boy who always had a word to add tried another set up, this time focused on Rey.

“Did you just...”

But Ben watches as her hip juts out to the side, leaning all of her weight onto that leg. Her hands clamp on either side of her waist as she cuts him off, “eat a dick to prove a point? I guess I did, and it worked.”

Try as he might, the girl had him there. A few more insults came, and she deflected each one, finally finishing with the hardest for any guy to hear.

“At least it’s not yours.”

The classroom erupts in enough “oooo’s” to call their teacher to them.

“What’s going on here?” a male’s voice came up behind Rey.

“Nothing important, Mr. Andor,” Rey pipes.

“If it isn’t important, I suggest you get to your assignments. It’s best you don’t waste your time,” he said returning to his desk, adding, “unless you’d like another one.”

The class groans in unison, “No thank you Mr. Andor.”

As things settle down, Rey moves back to Ben warning him first with a look, then asks if he took notes.

“Notes?” Ben asks, fumbling the word.

He honestly couldn’t be more confused. What in the world would he have gotten from that other than the fact that she clearly bowed down to no one.

“Ben. You’re one of the smartest kids in our class. Please tell me you picked up on what was happening just now.”

Ben’s tongue felt as though it was about to fall out of his mouth. A girl… Rey called him smart, and not only smart, one of the smartest in their class. It’s a rush and terrifying at the same time.

“Y-you think I’m smart?” he mumbles his question.

Rey rolls her eyes at him before confirming this. “That’s the thing though, Ben. You are so literal you can’t see when someone’s fucking with you.”

Ben’s brow furrows far enough forward and she seems to know when he’s going to speak, cutting him off when he tries to respond.

“Did you hear any of his words?”

Of course, Ben heard them. He _was_ talking to Armitage after all. Ben nods before trying to speak again.

“Listen to them again… replay them in your mind until you get what he said—what he really said, Ben.”

It takes him a few tries, more time than she thought he would but when his eyebrows lifted in surprise, he asks if she retaliated as she did because of it.

“Yes. Someone has to put that idiot in his place,” she pauses, “and you? Ben…” Rey shakes her head. “How are you going to do proper reporting without understanding the dual meaning and sarcasm society uses? Holdo is sarcastic as fuck. To out her, you’re going to have to be on your game. Do you really think you can handle this?”

His silence is deafening.

“We only have six weeks before the show. I need to know… if it’s possible... Can you do more?”

____

Rey was right. Days bled together while they worked on getting him to realize basic variations of both body language and sarcasm. He knew from a young age that he was a literal sort of kid, but nothing could deter him from at least trying. Rey could be relentless if she wanted to be, too. 

In the meantime, he’d done all of his usual prep work for his documentaries, pre-set narration, questions for Mrs. Holdo, evidence collecting, even role play with Rey acting as Mrs. Holdo to be sure he could handle himself.  
Uncertainty took over, and often, making it harder for her to focus her time with helping him. The change was obvious. Rey kept the pair in Room 504 for the rest of the week, dictating how this project was going to go.

Ben felt uncomfortable here still taking glances around the room at the forms created by other students. Remembering how he practically dissected the image on their artwork, he takes time within his proud pose, his chin lifted high in the air, to study the images before him. Each having a distinct way that they’d been drawn, none of which looked quite as elementary as the ones found at the start of the week. Clearly, these students had an idea of what they were doing.

The vandal, however, is still at large. No one has been outed or has served a Saturday detention for marking student’s work throughout the school, which seems wrong since genitalia didn’t belong up on walls. Or at least, shown outside of the modeling class, which he still isn’t sure should really be done in here.

Rey’s excuse for it was typical for an art student. She said that it was a necessity, that if an artist wanted to get into any field that remotely handled the human form, that they would have to be able to repeat what they see accurately. Of course, he fixed her with a look of disbelief calling out the beast that stood by some elements of the program, gaining him one more piece of information he couldn’t exactly gather. Maturity.

“Ben, this is AP Form. I would get it if we were freshman in a basic art class… but this is my fourth year at this level, _AP Form_, and I intend on making a career out of this. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to need a little more maturity from you to get through this. Especially if you can’t focus on Holdo.”

Ben’s nose turned up at the memory. It is awful being at the receiving end of one of Rey’s rants, even if it wasn’t truly a rant.

“Why don’t we practice some of that maturity?” Rey suggests openly gaining looks from other students in the class. 

Ben doesn’t know what to think. Instead of speaking, he tilts his head, his eyes as wide as saucers waiting for the rest of it. 

“Mr. Andor?” she calls behind her while she focuses on Ben.

“Ms. Sands...” Mr. Andor sighs in response. 

“We’ve got a shy one. Can Ben and I use studio 503?” Rey asks sweetly.

“Nope,” Mr. Andor replies, purposely popping the ‘p’.

Rey scowls, whipping her head around fast enough to make her hair fall out of her loose bun. 

“What?” she asks quickly.

“You heard me,” he retorts, peering over his laptop at her. 

“Is someone in there? I didn’t see anyone leave,” Ben listens to her press the issue.

Mr. Andor gives her a lopsided knowing smile, repeating his refusal again. 

“Then why can’t I—we use that room?” she asks, the both of them in a stand off until she recognizes what she forgot. Ben watches as her mood shifts from being aggressive to sweet again, “Please may I have the keys to studio 503, Mr. Andor?”

“Much better, Ms. Sands. You know where the key is, keep the door open,” he answers in his bored tone.

“But, prying eyes,” she says waving over the class. 

“Do you want to go back to ‘no?’” Mr. Andor challenged, smiling again when Rey shook her head.

It was a battle of wills, but she eventually got them to Room 503, just across the hall. Ben watched her move about the room, pulling what looked like blackout curtains from the back wall of windows, covering everyone until she reached the bottom of the windowsill. Next she pulled the easels around until she had most barricading them from view. Had anyone looked in they would have been met with a sea of layered newsprint, easel and stool legs instead of her subject matter. Ben.

Ben gulps as she makes her way around the room. The way she moves makes him uneasy. She said something about practicing maturity, what on earth does that even mean? 

His thoughts are quieted by the sound of classical music that Rey kept soft as if it were just for him. His body relaxes along with it, nearly ready to lean against something, which he never considered really doing at school. There, Ben knew he was uptight but never knew why. Now with Rey, she kept him on his toes too. He never really knew if she was coming or going or if he should be prepared to take a leap of faith. And yet, here in this studio with soft music playing, he’s able to forget just why they’re there. 

That is. Until she’s standing in front of him, her eyes focused on him too.

What? he wonders. Did she ask him something?

“Okay. Now. Everything is set up so that you can’t possibly be seen but anyone but me.”

Ben gulps at the sound of that. Maturity. She asked to practice maturity. 

“I’m not going to ask you to go full on nude here in school, but I do want you to practice being comfortable with seminude in front of me,” she said fixing him with a soft look he hasn’t seen before. 

“Um, okay,” he hesitates. 

“We can work at this slowly,” Rey adds, backing up a couple of steps from his space. 

“How?” Ben asks, his eyes not leaving hers.

“Piece by piece. Why don’t you start with your sweater, then tie, and when you’re comfortable enough your shirt and undershirt? I won’t ask for more until you’ve mastered this.“

Ben swallowed harshly, feeling the odd way that his Adam’s apple bobbed unlike any other time it had in the past. 

“You want me to...”

“Strip? Yes...it’s time to practice.”

Oh, he knows he’ll have to practice. While Ben’s confidence had been in many other subjects, doing what most wouldn’t for a story to put on his website, it certainly isn’t in openly being exposed. Even if Rey wasn’t bothered with it, he would still be half naked in front of her and that’s scary enough as it is. Ben’s hands trembled, complying even if he wasn’t mentally ready to, concerned with the time and foot traffic that would soon be happening in the halls. 

It’s now or never, he thinks as he pulls his sweater over his head. Her hand stops him, and he stills, holding his breath and all.

“Not until you’re ready,” she reminds him. 

It’s as relaxing as the classical music to hear her say it, even if she had to repeat herself. The bell rang, students passed, no one bothered them, and it was all the signs he needed to try this project with her. Ben had been able to remove his sweater, tie, and finally his shirt, which he draped over the side of the square platform facing away from them. He leaves himself in his white sleeveless undershirt, revealing his thin, large frame. 

It took him about a half hour more to finally reveal the remainder of his upper body, taking the thin, ribbed cloth, the same over the back of the head way he had with the other two items. Ben found himself stopping mid pull when he hears a long string of Rey’s hushed swears, followed by, “bloody perfect” that sort of sounded as if she growled it. 

“A-are you okay?” Ben asks unsure of whether or not he should keep going. 

“Yeah...” Rey replies, sort of distantly. “So, okay... so, so... okay...”

Ben, still holding his shirt in front of him, bunched up at his chest and hanging on his arms, asks, “should I keep going?”

“Please!” Rey’s response takes him back a little. “I mean,” she corrects herself, clearing her throat as she does, “if you feel comfortable then please do.”

With that Ben finishes stripping, folds his shirt and places it with the rest, asking Rey how she wants him. 

Another strange sound from her concerns him enough to ask and yet again he’s assured she’s fine. 

Poses and sketch time varied but the last where she had him lay flat with his arms crossed behind his head, had him wondering what was so important about this one in particular. Rey seemed to move a lot then, even moved right up alongside the platform to get a better angle. He supposed it was because of the fact that she could only see his side from that view and so he welcomed her over. 

He is reminded several times not to look at her while she studied him, but he could feel her eyes on him. The best he can come up with is that she’s judging him. His body isn’t as fine-tuned as some of the jocks in school, but he’s not a jock, he reminds himself as if she can hear his thoughts. He’s currently built like a rail, a wide rail... but still, he’s skinny and while it’s all muscle, it isn’t defined like men in the movies, and yet she stares.

It takes a full four songs before she finally puts her pencil down.

“Done,” she says, clearing her throat, startling him from his thoughts. “You can get put your clothes back on now,” she whispers before disappearing into the back of the room.

Done? Didn’t they just start?

“You’re done?” Ben’s voice cracks.

“Yeah. I just needed the basic sketch for this one. We’ll take up painting this weekend, if you’re free,” she adds softly. 

Does she?

Ben began questioning everything, like she said to.

“What? Uh, why?”

“Well, for starters, I have to meet with a few colleges, and I believe you told me you’d be in the lab for most of the day, and yet you’ve been with me instead. Shame, shame,” she giggled, “What have I turned you into Mr. Solo?”

Ben rolled his eyes.

Wait, did he really just do that?

“I—yeah, I mean…” he stutters. “I got further in the Holdo Files. I think I might be able to start filming soon.”

“Great,” her voice is softer now being further away from him. “When do you think you can start it?”

“Probably by this coming Monday.”

“Wonderful…” Ben imagines that he can tell she’s smiling when she says it.

He’s getting it or so he tells himself.

____

Ben spends the rest of the day in the lab working on overlays for scenes in Photoshop and other programs as he sees fit, wanting the documentary to be as on point as his last few he made discovering new theories on already controversial issues that plagued the school and town he grew up in. Those had been of the best he’d done since the ode to his grandfather in the beginning of the year. Ben truly believed that he would have done his idol proud with all his research and time that had gone into the project. He just knows he’ll be able to tie this one down now too.

Mrs. Holdo would be exposed and the work that she claims she’s doing which will be awarded to the right candidates, but there should be more to that, he thinks. Honoring the credit where its due doesn’t seem like it’ll be received the right way, Ben stalls again, looking down at the time in the right-hand corner.

Ugh, its well after six.

How did that even happen?

Groaning about it again, Ben sets up to save all his work, and copying it onto his USB drive. Packing up his stuff, he carefully places the handheld arm for his camera phone into his bag last. That tool is important, and usually is held, but given he has nothing to shoot right now, in it goes. 

That was a mistake.

Looking down at the carpeted floor one last time to check that he didn’t drop anything, Ben discovers a white mark just inches from his chair. His brow furrows, wondering just what it could be, as his eyes travel just a little further, finding another. The shape is different than the last. More organic in nature, followed by another, larger shape and a line, suggesting maybe someone drew a fountain spaying on the floor, when he finally sees it. It’s big this time. Far bigger than the one on Rey’s work, and the ones he’d seen popping up throughout the school. 

Questions start building in his mind while he searches for his camera arm to steady his phone’s documentation of the finding. Before he knows it, he’s already recorded and assessed the footage, making one last stop to his web page starting a new series ‘The CCA’s Most Wanted’.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben produces the first true video documentary of what is happening around the school and it goes viral. He struggles with the backlash, popularity on his story verses his site, and cant handle the changes between him and his partner Rey, but the boy is trying -- so give him that. <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE THANK YOU TO LITTLEMISTAKE!! You're creativity and brainstorming on this has helped tremendously! Thanks for keeping this story in line and all you do <3 <3 <3
> 
> Also, here's a list of screen names we're working with:
> 
> Rey: Sands_JK  
Leia: A_Princess_of_the_Stars  
Finn: Storming_thru2187  
Poe: DAMMIT0000  
Armitage: GingerNinja  
Ben: BSoloFilm777  
Han: Lessthan12parsecs  
Rose: Delicate_Rose
> 
> If you have any you can think of, we can work with them to get them added in commentary. <3

There... is...a...

Ben tilts his head to the side not wanting to believe that the perp was somehow in this studio with him and he didn’t catch the person. How embarrassing, he thinks, making a mental note not to bring it up while recording.

He fishes his equipment out of his bag, sets up the arm for his iPhone so it stays steady as he records the image as if it was an unknown species that had found its way into the CCA’s film lab. Angling the camera just so, Ben begins by welcoming whoever his audience might be to another episode of the CCA’s Most Wanted, even though this is the first he’d recorded of the vandalism being done over the last week or so. Usually his episodes covered who stole something out of his bookbag or something minor just to keep the idea of the show alive. His mother blamed the interest on all of the Law and Order shows her son watched and told him often. Ben, however, knew differently. People that watched those shows liked to figure out the puzzle just like he did or at least he thought. Another thought was that maybe he could get people to be on his side and return the said item… but the show never took off.

And so, Ben reports on his findings, planning to put this miscellaneous video there. Upon recording, though, Ben can’t believe what he’s seeing, giving multiple angles of the two-dimensional elementary cave drawing of an erection enough airtime to fill his entire thirty-minute slot. He, however, doesn’t stop there, combining two of his favorite celebrities to report like, Bear Grylls and Steve Irwin, but also gave it his own personal flare of both urgency and outrage.

“The drawing, as you can see, is clearly the immature standard of what a member truly looks like. This one is clearly too big, measuring well over seven feet. Seven feet six inches to be exact,” Ben pans over the line of wooden rulers he managed to line up from the base of the round balls, all the way up to the tip of its head.”

Ben pauses and repeats the action, measuring the width of the drawing coming up with one and a half feet from the head, widening a gradually all the way down the shaft until it met the engorged testicles.

“Aside from the obvious size and hypothetical girth of this penis,” Ben says, clearing his throat and willing his face not to show defeat as he knew his cheeks were starting to burn at the mention of the word ‘penis’. “You can clearly see that the individual responsible has the same poor style that matches the ones found earlier this month in select places on Cloud City Academy’s premises. The choice in medium has been different every time too. Permanent marker on one of their murals, pen on my partner’s artwork, and now chalk, or what looks like chalk, on the carpet here.”

Ben sets the camera’s arm on the floor for the close up of him running his finger through the white line. Tiny particles of shaved chalk jump up off of the short carpet as his finger pad stirs up the calm lying white powder. He, however, is still unsure of the substance, picking up the camera while he used his senses to put his hypothesis to rest. His camera picked up the acts of him inhaling the substance from the floor beneath him and tapping his tongue against a particularly stark white, only to bring it back into his mouth to check the flavor like a food critic.

Ben coughs before speaking into the camera again, “It’s not a narcotic, certainly not paint or a pastel, I can assure you. I can’t, however, be sure of the brand of chalk, which is of little matter, honestly, because only the math rooms and study halls are the only ones living in the past here at CCA. This can only mean one of two things, anyone could have stolen chalk to do this, or it is someone from those rooms specifically.”

Having nothing else to report on, Ben wraps it up with, “if you, or anyone you know has information on this series of events or can report the person responsible, please contact me at on Your tips can remain anonymous by submitting as a guest as well. And so, concludes today’s episode of CCA’s Most Wanted. Thank you for watching.”

  
Ben looks back at the desk, removes his phone from the arm, and texts his mother that he’d be late tonight. He adds that he’s working on another show but ending with her approving of it and reminding him that he still has to come home after. Like he didn’t know. His shoulders relax, nodding along with mom even though she couldn’t see him.

  
It only takes about an hour to steady the frames properly in Premiere, set overlays, and upload to his website with obvious tags. The last step is to pack up and walk out, deciding he shouldn’t erase the marking given the fact that he could be blamed for it.

It’s hard leaving the giant unit on the floor but what can he do?

Drive home. That’s what he can do. He can make his way back, eat, shower and sleep before he gets to do it all again the next day. Well, hopefully not everything. Maybe the penile graffiti artist will see the error in their ways and just stop knowing they’ll be outed.

The next morning, Ben stared at his phone in utter disbelief.

There has to be a mistake, Ben thinks, scratching the stubble beneath his lip.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Ben murmurs to himself, pulling up his webpage on his phone for the fifth time on his way to the senior parking lot.

None of his other projects got this type of numerical response. Not even the 37th Annual CCA Classics Show, and that’s a huge event. The whole town goes. There are vendors for all types of stores that don’t just include food and apparel. There are big brand name sponsors that host it which sort of turns the show into a festival if he can call it that, which made Ben wonder if the algorithm changed. If tags in his search engine optimizers had to be reset again to push his contact back onto the web, then it would take forever to do. Maybe not forever but it’s a meticulous task for every picture and link... it’s just, ugh...

Researching the matter didn’t do much help. Forums Ben usually worked off of we’re a quick search and a few clicks later, he had the answer, but this time the last complaint over tag updates was over six months ago. Being able to rationalize the fact that it isn’t a bug, or a glitch, Ben starts down his list of questions to troubleshoot the problem. If it wasn’t that, what was it? How the hell did a story on a drawn penis become so interesting?

Ben’s at odds, grumbling through breakfast, where he’s usually talkative. His mother always has something to add too. Anything weird she saw or interesting gossip she’d hear throughout the day, she’d report to Ben, but not this morning. This time she was engrossed in a twitter argument he could see enfolding in the lenses of her glasses while his father would be watching tv over Ben’s shoulder. The gesture normally bothered him but today he fidgets with his phone until he reboots it all together.

He’s practically inhaling his cereal while the device comes back to life. Ben can’t help but hope his site’s gone back to normal. It hasn’t, which is infuriating, but a few other stories had climbed marginally making it seem as if the site was working properly. Several visitors took interest in the interview he had made with Rey, the UFO sighting one and the auto show. All of which he found himself clicking on each one, wondering what could be so interesting.

First, he checked Rey’s which jumped a couple hundred views, increased in likes, and had a few choice comments he felt the need to delete immediately pertaining to her physical appearance. Some were tame while others suggested the need to track her down which got under his skin. It wasn’t just that it was wrong to say or type in the first place but he _knows_ her. Rey’s a good person who makes him feel safe. It’s only right he did what needs to be done to protect her too.

As for the UFO sightings interview, it had a lot of speculation and spaced out comments to go with it. Ben thumbs through them and then back up to see where he is for stats, besides the views, likes remained the same. That’s frustrating...

Finally, the auto show had increased in both views and likes, but it still hasn’t gained more than a few of his mother’s comments.

Pathetic, he thinks, before going back to the report in question. Views, comments and likes galore... for a stupid oversized penis on the floor...

What is it about this story that captured this type of interest?

——-

School... is...different...

From the moment he parks in his spot, he can feel eyes on him. It’s unnerving. Students whispering to each other while looking in his direction never seemed to bother him the way it does now. Are they talking about him, he wonders idly while he reboots his phone again for what feels like the millionth time this morning. It isn’t until he’s made it in for role call in that he can really focus on what students are doing and saying. Some make hand gestures to their crotches while thrusting upward to meet the motion of their hands in his direction, while others are carrying around rulers, and the rest are downright quoting his report. It’s enough to make him want to scream... or find Rey and walk out with her.

That’s new.

The moment Rey came to mind his heartbeat slowed just as time around him. Rey could make this better, he trained himself to remember. His mind would collect everything that’s good about her, drowning out the crudeness of it all, nearly to the point where he could almost hear Vivaldi.

No. Wait... that’s his phone, Ben realizes, then takes it out to check the message.

It’s Rey.

[Rey]

Have you had breakfast?

[Ben]

Yeah.

[Rey]

How about brunch?

Ben wonders what she means, focusing on another web page refresh, finding himself staring at numbers that are just unheard of, for him at least.

[ ](https://ibb.co/Tb4bShg)

But then notices the increase in commentary, filled with lols, uninspired dick jokes, how Yo Mama takes it, more quotes and screenshots turned memes, he needed to delete as soon as possible. He’s nearly deleted over a hundred comments when he finally comes across, Armitage’s video response.

Nothing could prepare him for what he sees next—nothing.

[ ](https://ibb.co/rFhbgpF)

Armitage wore a grey pea coat over what was obviously the CCA’s standard uniform to do it too. Ben would know it anywhere; his collared white dress shirt and red and grey diagonally striped tie were giveaways to it. Armitage also wore a grey hat with what looked like metal arms coming out of the top with yellow gloves attached to them. Each glove held something different. One had a badge, the other held onto a magnifying glass with a ... penis... drawn on it.

Ben did his best not to let his curiously win, looking at the comments instead of the video. It was hard. The pull to click that play button had been relentless, but somehow, he managed to hit the drop-down arrow to see the replies to Armitage’s video. The ‘bring it’ crotch slap and the rulers taped to students’ pants were because of Armitage... in fact, anything Ben had on his cover story was free game... and now, he had to know just what Armitage’s video reported on, for science.

[ ](https://ibb.co/V9xkzzN)

The kid’s screen name is the GingerNinja, which is honestly intriguing since Armitage never once had any interest in gym glass. He was the kid, like Ben, looking to get out of it at all costs. He even seemed to get out of Health which was necessary for graduation... but it still doesn’t explain his name selection. Ben thumbs through his videos, finding nothing on where it may have stemmed from which brings him right back to Armitage’s phony report.

The video is complete garbage, jiggling the camera is Ben’s biggest reason for closing out of a story.

“Control your footage,” Ben groans, watching as it unfolds.

It’s a hard four minutes and twenty-eight seconds to get through but once it’s over Ben has the intense need to school Armitage in editing, completely forgetting about the content and Rey’s message. Instead, he thumbs the back button, urgently returning to his page to say the genre should not, in fact, be named a _cockumentary_ instead of a documentary because that was complete nonsense. Comments which had started to fizzle out when classes started, revved back up again, egging Ben on with every reply. Sometime between first and second period, underclassmen had come up with a petition signed by the majority of the student body to submit their request as if it would change Ben’s mind.

Hundreds of comments fly by and there are honestly too many to read, but Ben diligently sifts through, finding more of the same. Random links are shared by screen names he doesn’t recognize too that reference _The Bad Touch_, _Butterfly_ as well as other suggestive songs and lines upon lines of squirting eggplant emojis.

The more he reads through the more he sees his partner and his mother sticking up for him. It was obvious why his mother was, but Rey, as nice as she’s been with him during their project, didn’t really know much about him. Maybe she just likes to argue, the thought comes into his mind remembering how easy it was for her to challenge Armitage. Some girls like that…he guesses, seeing as his mother and her twitter wars are nothing he can ignore. Still, it’s kind of nice to see Rey stand with his mother to quiet the crowd.

Arrowing back to get out of the comments section and back up to the views, Ben can’t believe that it grown into the tens of thousands, which means someone found it and shared the video outside of his network.

Is that a good thing or a bad thing, he wonders. Is it sick that people are taking interest in drawn penises? If they were boobies or otherwise, would it matter? His questions roll around in his mind as he continues his battle with the never-ending surge of comments throughout the rest of the day. That is, until he comes across a screen name “DAMMIT0000”. Ben has no idea who DAMMIT0000 is but after a heated debate about Ben’s rulers footage, he finally starts to notice he’s being trolled by the guy. Being _trolled_ makes him see red, so he turns off his phone and shoves it back in his backpack instead of giving it any more attention.

It’s been several days of this now, leaving him at Friday, an A day, which means he has his usual academics, history, math and study hall. The fact that it wouldn’t stop all week made Ben crazy. There were no more developments... nothing, except trolls. Well, trolls and Rey trying to get him to skip school with her that is.

It rained all day though.

Poured, really.

A mountain of navy bluish grey clouds rushed the school, blasting it with flash flooding the area hadn’t seen in years.

“Well that’s just perfect,” Ben hears Rey sigh then the sound of what might be her head bumping but resting against the window.

Ben shuffles out of his locker section to check and sure enough it is.

“What’s perfect?” he asks, his tone’s soft as if he’s approaching a wild animal. He hadn’t talked to her all week because of the stupid amount of attention he’d gotten thanks to the video. He’d been quiet during their sessions, deep in thought, still able to work through removing his shirts down to his bare chest, but there was little, if no real interaction with her. He was just blank... and she didn’t push.

Rey keeps her forehead on the window, only turning a little to see him starring, answering, “It’s pouring, and I walk home.”

“I-I could drive you,” he gulped as her eyebrow lifted, “I could, I mean, if you wanted... I could drive you home.”

“You’re not too busy?” she asked, staring him down.

“No, I’m not. Come on, you can hold the it if you want,” he adds, extending his giant, red and grey school spirit edition umbrella to her.

The gesture makes her smile. “You’re really going to crouch so I can hold it?”

“If I have to, yes.”

Her smile only grew wider, informing him she was ready when he was. When they were, Ben and Rey stepped out into the storm to battle the downpour together.

As big as his umbrella was, it didn’t keep them dry. The wind would sweep streams of rain to the sides, front and back of the rim, nearly soaking the two of them completely. Being that it was still April, the water was cold too making the both of them shiver. Because of it, Ben promised his car might look beat up, “but it has heat...and I think I have a towel,” he adds pressing his lips into a thing line.

“What do you have a towel for?” Rey asks, genuinely interested in why he’d be prepared.

“I have a few dogs, Springer Spaniels... they’re good, but they get into everything...”

“So, this towel you have, is it clean?”

“Well, mostly. Chewie was the one that used it last. I had to dry his paws. They weren’t dirty, just wet,” Ben claims as they make it to the senior lot. Several cars are still parked there, but they pay no mind to them. The two of them make his way over to his boxy, old, dark blue Durango’s back seat to retrieve a fluffy beige towel for Rey to dry off with. Next he motioned her over to the passenger’s seat, shielding her from the next wave of heavy downpour.

Never in Ben’s life did he think he’d be here, crowding a girl into his car, shielding her from the rain. His only immediate thought is one that goes against all others: get closer. And why would he need to? It seems ridiculous. What a strange idea, he rolls his eyes at himself, but she isn’t sitting and is but inches away from him. So close that a half a step forward would undoubtedly push his body onto hers. It’s simply unnerving.

Rey wraps herself in his towel, folding it in on itself on her chest, then raised the back of it which hung around her knees to...

“What are you...” Ben can barely ask.

“I’m soaked and so are my clothes. If I take them off, the towel won’t be by the time you drop me off.”

“But, but... how are you gonna...” he asks, his mouth going dry at the thought of her streaking from his car into the house. What if people saw? What if he saw?!

“Relax,” Rey said pulling out what looked like a garage door opener. “You can just pull in and then back out after I return your towel.”

“Aren’t I going to see you...” Ben could not, for the life of him, finish any of his sentences.

“You’re going to sooner or later, Ben. Our project is going to expect you to get over that.”

Doing his best to ignore the fact that she just removed her skirt and Maker only knows what else as he pans away from her. He can’t, however, stand the idea of keeping his eyes away for long before needing to check that she’s okay. What is this feeling?

Looking down is wrong.

_Oh, it’s wrong._

His face feels hot beyond measure, burning all the way up to the tips of his ears watching her remove the last article of clothing. She may be covered with the towel, but he can’t help but feel like he’s seen something far more intimate. By the time Rey tosses her bra at the floor and slides into the seat Ben’s certain he stopped breathing.  
_There is a naked girl in his car._

What if... what if they get pulled over? What if... he tries to shove his thoughts out of his head, but it’s there...it won’t leave... what if her towel falls open?

“Do you want me to start your engine? ‘Get the heat going?” Rey asks, smiling brightly up at him.

That’s the last thing he can remember. Sure, she spoke and gave directions to get her across town, home, into the garage and somehow back out without hitting anything but he’s not sure how he functioned with her right there in _practically nothing._

Several times he willed himself not to look or think... mostly pressuring himself to stay blank or suffer the wrath of a cold shower, but it happened. The strain was real. He could not, would not allow his building interests in the girl seduce him. Even if she leaned forward into the vent to try dry her hair. _Maker_ all she had to do was twist out of it just so and he was certain he’d hit a tree.

Rey couldn’t leave soon enough... but he’d missed her the second she left. It happened just as she said it would... easily. No one saw and that was oddly to his liking. Feelings he never felt before started building but he has no name for them, so instead of facing them head on, he pushes them to the side as he does with every other thing that makes no sense in his life.

On the way home, Ben sat on the towel but felt weird for doing it. By the time he got there, he found himself taking the towel with him, like it was wrong to leave it alone. Almost like it had been a gift Rey gave him.

Time seemed to move slowly then. He took a hot shower to warm himself back up, wondering if she was too. Once he felt comfortable again, he dressed in grey sweatpants, thick white socks and a black cotton tee shirt. Finalizing his comfort with his school spirit slippers, Ben is ready to do his first check back to his phone finding the counts climbed again... but the oddest thing of all has him clicking a link the GingerNinja posted on his page with a threat.

[ ](https://ibb.co/hMgjW0p)

“When did this happen?!” Ben shouts at his phone.

“What?” he hears his father return up the stairs. His question stirs up the dogs to the point where Ben can mouth every word of his father’s commands to Chewie, Artoo, and Po, which at one point was supposed to be C3PO but there was no way his father would agree to it. It was the closest thing his mother could get to one of her favorite droids’ pals’ names... but when it came down to it Han was not going to call “C3PO” if the dog ever ran off. So, Po, pronounced, “Pee-oh” it is.

“Nah, not you...” Ben called back trying to listen to Armitage’s report. Besides his awful behavior and inability to effectively edit the piece before uploading, he’s genuinely intrigued by what’s happening. It seems that whoever has been getting around to the places he’s mentioned personally, has also hit...the... inside... of... Armitage’s...car....

“Do you?! Are you seeing this?!” Armitage’s roars.

The downpour effects his movements. Holding the phone and umbrella is a real task, so by the time he’s done throwing his bag and umbrella in the passenger’s side, Armitage has shared enough swears and threats to get himself banned from his channel.

He’s off shouting about how someone broke into his car to draw flaccid penises with chalk markers on the inside of the windows.

_”And... I know what you might be thinking. How would you know that it’s a chalk marker? Hmm? You ask... I’ll show you how I know!”_ Armitage hisses as he lifts a Ziplock bag turned inside out, which presumably held a piece of his lunch. _”This! This right here is how I know! I found this cap in the pocket of the door._”

He holds the camera up to show the bright purple cap and then back to scan the windows for the texture of the paint marker.

“I swear to the Maker himself; I’ll get to the bottom of this! And there will be consequences!” he adds.

Ragged breathing and hard raindrops slamming onto his car soaks up the remainder of his video, finally ending with the camera, flipping back to his angry face before turning it off.

Comments flood beneath it all in disbelief, “lmao’s” and more. Below it is wittiest of comments is from Sands_JK, which Ben actually snorts at...”_What’s with the sad elephants?”_

It’s more of the same bullshit responses to Armitage that Ben had seen on his earlier that week. Not only did it eliminate Armitage as a suspect but opened Ben up to offering to help the guy find out who did it. Breaking into a car is wrong, regardless of whether or not Armitage kept his doors locked.

The kid was known for keeping them open and several other unthinkable actions like leaving the keys in the ignition while shopping at the local convenient store out here in the city. He clearly came from the suburbs but so did Ben. In fact, the only person he knew that didn’t was Rey. She was in that weird development that wasn’t quite suburbs or city. Nevertheless, Armitage’s parents had the expendable money. They could just drop a new car in his lap every quarter if they so desired.

Still, Ben offered to help because it seemed like the right thing to do.

——-

Monday came without warning. People that teased Ben, came in with face paint of “elephants” in pink, purple and yellow, assuring the faculty that it was a movement to save circus elephants and creatures alike and certainly not in any way connected to the circulating videos of the graffiti on Armitage’s car. It didn’t fly though. Everyone found with the offending colors were expected to promptly remove it before class, ruining their plans to troll Armitage in the flesh.

The unthinkable pair, Ben and Armitage, exchanged knowing looks and messages online throughout the day when Rey finally intercepts the two of them in the hall.  
“Hey,” Rey said, her voice was softer than it had been in the past. “I was looking for you.”

“Uh,” is Ben’s only response.

“Where do you want to meet up for our session?” she asks despite Armitage’s nearness. “My place or yours?”

Ben can’t think straight. The image of her sashaying from his vehicle to the laundry unit setup on the left wall in her garage came to mind. Once she was there, she bent to grab a large hoodie from the drier. It shouldn’t have mattered so much but a bubble of what he thought was anger flared in his chest at the sight of her putting some other guy’s sweatshirt on. Rey was practically drowning in it with no other need to continue dressing so she tugged hard enough on the towel to remove it from her body. She even asked him if she could warm it for him assuring Ben it would only be a couple minutes. But a couple of minutes with a girl—Rey casually waiting in next to nothing for his towel seemed scary at the time. He’ll never admit it though.

Armitage butts in, pressing his issue again, derailing Ben from his thoughts.

“We need to find this guy, Ben,” he looked over Rey’s choice of disheveled crispness, then back to Ben for his answer.

“Yeah, um… yeah, have you had a chance to get prints on the cap you found? Do you know anyone that can do that?”

Their conversation picked right back up as if Rey wasn’t there, testing theories on who the mysterious artist could be.

“They seem to be spontaneous,” adds Ben, who goes over Armitage’s video another time only to faintly register that Rey is trying to interrupt. Its only when she shoulders through the duo, parting them enough to finally see her that he hears her call the both of them dicks like the ones they missed up on the wall.

Ben doesn’t know what to do. Rey pushed him. Is she upset? As much as he wants to find out, Armitage calls him back to the scene of the crime. It’s _two_ dicks this time the directional sign for what floor they’re on, one erect for upstairs and one floppy for down, drawn on what could be a sticker with pen and markers, plastered on the sign. Or at least that’s what they can see considering its several feet above them.

Classmates take pictures of the offending images with their phones and Armitage finds himself shooing them which leaves Ben wondering if it’s because he wants to claim ownership over the stories, or if he’s solely into it to get justice. Armitage is animated, that’s for sure, not worried about the commotion he’s creating or the fact that he’s being caught on camera denying onlooker’s access.

Ben then remembers Rey and looks for her. He’s nearly lost his partner in the sea of heads leading down the hall towards the next stair well and classes around the corner when he spots her. Is she running away from him? Did he make her do that?

Is that? Did he just see a single finger wipe her eye before completely rounding the corner?

It’s a side of her he’s not sure of. Does Rey cry? Ben shook his head and decided it must be allergies. They are particularly bad this time of year...especially here.

Another hour passes since the boys have reported on the new discovery when Armitage tries to push Ben to just publish the video already.

“No, see this is why your count is crap. Your picture is all over the place like you’re running a marathon. No one wants to watch it.”

“Says the thousands that did,” Armitage snorts.

“I had to stop and just listen to your footage and even that was hard. You need to calm down, do the steps, make it right, and then publish it.” Ben can almost hear it before he replies, jumping in before Armitage can like Rey would, “If you don’t believe me, look at my views compared to yours.”

[ ](https://ibb.co/ctJv6R4)

[ ](https://ibb.co/CvxHZvX)

While Ben started off slow with his real work, these _cockumentaries_ were pushing Ben into a trending category he couldn’t fathom or control in any way. His first video on it neared the one hundred thousand views and more than half of them were legitimate people, liking the video as it remained online.

It doesn’t take much more pressing the matter after that until Armitage agrees. The guy finds Armitage doing the best he can to learn the system as Ben went along so that they could post it faster. The moment it went live, and they posted the video in both pages, the number rose faster.

Ben, without thinking, adds Armitage’s name as another reporter on his site, then asks if it’s okay.

[ ](https://ibb.co/nnDfNvD)

“That’s fine,” he says, pushing the name of the tab’s description be renamed to cockumentary to which Ben laughs, and agrees.

Is it weird to enjoy this company, Ben wonders silently watching the site’s response.

It’s only a while more before the bell rings signaling the final shift to the last class of the day. For Ben it’s a study hall which has his thoughts wandering back to Rey and his towel. Somehow his mind checks into overdrive picking up on little things he should have noticed all day. Instead of texting, Ben does the unthinkable—in class— surrounded by onlookers. He FaceTime’s Rey.

To his surprise, she picks up. Her face dims a little and he’s not sure if it’s because of the circumstances or if it’s just the phone. The building knot in his chest presses him to hope it’s just the phone. Her picture stares at him and he’s suddenly too overwhelmed to speak again.

“If you aren’t going to talk, let me finish this word find in peace,” she says, getting ready to end the call.

“No, wait. Please don’t hang up,” he pleads.

Rey sighs heavily, “What Ben?”

“Where are you? Can we meet up? I want to...” Ben hears himself get hushed.

This makes her smirk.

“Ben Solo...calling in class? What have I turned you into? Tisk, tisk,” she teases, stopping only when he challenges her with a hard glare. “You know where I am or should. Let’s play it this way... if you meet me here, all’s forgiven... you know all that ignoring—“

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” his whisper shout carries far enough to alert the teacher again.

“Oh, really? What do you call silence after I clearly said hello and asked you where you wanted to strip this weekend?” she hissed, hanging up when she heard the interest spike around him.

Ben could only stare at the blank screen. That was it... Rey’s not hurt... she’s mad.

_ get to Jyn’s or we can pick up on Monday. I have no preference. _

Why does that sting?

She has no preference?

Should he not show up?

Why is this so confusing??

While he thinks things over Ben gets distracted with his site again, forgetting all about time, missing Jyn’s completely. When he realizes what he’s done he texts Rey to apologize and see if they can meet up at her place to do the modeling and talk, adding the fact that he’s a little overwhelmed and would feel better to do it in person.

_That’s fine. Come over when you’re ready._

Going to Rey’s is the easiest part of the trip which doesn’t say a lot for him. He’s nervous as he should be, he thinks, being that he hadn’t been a good friend all week. How many times was he distracted? Maybe he should tell her about all of that. Maybe she would be more understanding...

Pulling in her garage seems weird, but she’s assured him that no one was home and wouldn’t be all weekend, but what if they had a change of plans? All of it melts away when a new fear is presented. Rey’s in what looks to be her pajamas, light blue and white plaid shorts and a grey cotton shirt that clung to her in a way he couldn’t describe. Is it cotton? he wonders, gaining the strange need to run his hand over the material... the familiar twitch in his slacks stops all forward thinking. Suddenly he’s half hard. _What the hell?_ and getting out of the vehicle is no longer an easy task. Especially not when she bends to get something from the floor.

_Fuck._ he groans internally. He’s going to _die._

A chill runs down his spine, fizzling slightly when he registers what she’s doing.

“Wh-what do you need turpentine for?” He asks, his voice is low and straining through his question.

She looks him over oddly before replying, “It’s paint thinner. We’re working in oils today. Not any of that acrylic they push in school.”

Ben nods dumbly, watching her fill a small glass jar about halfway with it, then cap said jar with a lid that had a smaller hole in the center. She took out another, slightly larger jar, filling it halfway with a new can marked as linseed oil, then the other half with the paint thinner, capping it tightly before shaking it hard.

Ben gulps again.

Why does he feel like he can’t breathe?

“This is a glaze. It’s kind of like your layers in Photoshop. I paint the background, then put this on to protect it but also liven the color for the second addition to the canvas. It’s going to smell, but we can open windows and bake cookies after if it gets you loopy.”

“What’s varnish for?” Ben asks, pointing at the other container as she puts the other chemicals away.

“_That’s_ a sealant. When we’re done and the paint has completely dried, I put that on, so it doesn’t crack and livens the color again.”

Ben nods as if he understands.

“So, we don’t need it for about a week depending on how much red we use,” she says as if he gets it, adding, “red doesn’t dry. ‘Stays wet for far longer than any other color.”  
Ben nods following her through the garage, up the stairs leading up to their main level. He can’t imagine living in an apartment like this. The floors stacked on top of each other instead of spread out seems odd to him, but he remains silent.

The first-floor house is an open concept. There’s a cozy living room with a large couch and oversized matching chair that could double as a loveseat if he squinted surrounding a wooden coffee table that looks out a bay window instead of facing a television. He frowns at this. Why wouldn’t they have a television there?

Just behind it is the kitchen. It looks a little dated with the tile countertops and vinyl flooring, but other than that it’s pretty normal as far as old kitchens go. Next he realizes a narrow hallway between the kitchen and which Rey waves him over to.

“This is my room. My parents have the whole upstairs to themselves...” she rolls her eyes. “If you need the bathroom, it’s through there,” she points to the door towards the back of her room. “There’s a connecting door to the hall, it’s normally locked but just in case you need it, I’d make sure in the untimely event that my parents come home.”  
Ben can’t be sure if she means that it could be a possibility or if it’s sarcasm, so he stays quiet, touching knickknacks found on her short paint splattered, wooden dresser against the wall closest to them. Across from them is her bed and oddly enough the sight of the bed stirs him up again.

Maker help him he’s not going to survive this.

“Why don’t you get yourself ready so we can get started,” Rey says closing the door.

She heads to the corner of her room, close to her standing mirror and closet, getting herself set up while Ben began to take his sweater off.

“I’m sorry about all this,” he says, stopping her from what she’s doing.

“Sorry for what?” she asks softly, before returning to setting her stool down beside her.

A second, somewhat taller one went beside her, for what, Ben doesn’t know. They haven’t yet worked in oils and he’s sure something unexpected is about to pop up.

“I mean all week, this—ever since this guy’s been marking the school, I’ve just been so distracted. First, I thought my website was screwed up. Then I thought I had a handle on things, and now, we’ll, now I have thousands of people coming through the site for those types of stories and I just kind of don’t know who I am anymore.” Ben keeps talking, removing his undershirt, the clang of his belt being undone doesn’t even register as he continues, “the thing is, I put my all into each story. I’m not in it for photojournalism, I’m into making whatever the video is about clean and professional. It just,” he feels himself push his thumbs just under the waist of his slacks, pushing them down and off of him without a thought. “I want people to be interested in what I’m doing because the story is important. Not because it’s _trending_. I guess I just want long term results, not a quick fix to my view count.”

All at once his attention refocuses on Rey who’s staring. Her eyes travel down him as if he carved out for her, before snapping back up to meet his. Where he wouldn’t totally understand before, the volume of her interest is there, but just as soon as he realizes it, it’s gone.

Rey’s setting paint on a glass slab which she explains is important for oil painting. “Keeps the paint loose,” she says, setting the piece on her dresser and the jars on the stool. “Are you ready? I have to set the lights since we’re inside.”

“You mean you’d do this outside?” he croaks.

“Natural light is better than artificial any day,” she assures him. “But you aren’t quite ready for something like that, Ben,” she pauses, finding music on her phone to help him stay calm.

“No, I am not,” he agrees. “Do you want me to put these back on?”

“Nope,” she says, popping the “p” like Mr. Andor.

“O-okay...” Ben stutters.

“We’re going to do thinker’s pose first, so why don’t you sit on my bed and get comfortable?”

Ben can’t help but try to handle this strange rush of emotions while Rey works the room, setting lights and filters to get the right light on her subject. Once she’s ready, Ben nearly feels himself swallow his tongue. Not only does she take off her shorts, revealing some of the smallest underwear she’s ever seen, but she also works the hem of her shirt up and over her chest.

“Wh-why are you ta-taking yours off?” Ben swallows hard at the sight of her nearly bare body before him. His member twitches happily being in the same room as her, unable to comprehend why she responded about working in oils.

“They’re my favorite pajamas, Ben,” she says, pointing to her smock hanging over the mirror. “Oil doesn’t come out. Besides, it may be time to get you acclimated to seeing me too.”

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ he whisper hissed in his mind as she finished removing first her shorts and then her bra revealing her body almost completely to him. And yet she doesn’t seem as excited about it as he does...what did she need from him again, he searches through his memories, finally coming up with _maturity_. Suddenly, he absolutely hates the word. Despises it, actually. How can she be unfazed by what they’re doing?

Throughout their session, Rey works quickly, applying layer after layer of paint to get Ben’s figure just right. All the while Ben uses a lot of their time together to ignore his feelings for her and dive back down into deeply explore why he needs the site in the first place.

“Well, I mean where else am I going to put my work? Don’t you have a portfolio? It’s kind of the same thing...”

“It is, but it’s not based on inviting people in to view the content. Mine’s somewhat of a closed circuit. I can’t exactly have ‘all types’ of folks viewing some of it at least,” she explains vaguely.

“What do you mean?”

“Ben, I study the figure. A lot of nude bodies in all types of media. I can think of a bunch of reasons to keep it private,” she retorts. And again, Rey pipes up, “underage crowds and predators are two of the main reasons, but as you can see with yours you attract so many weirdos, and I hate to tell you this, but you need them to get by. You need them to think you’re great because that’s what your site thrives on.”

Silence falls between them for long enough for Rey to set another glaze, when she finally adds, “I hope you’re not driven on statistics like your site though.”  
“Why’s that?” Ben whispers as she turns to him, his own gaze following the same sort of track down Rey’s body and back up it, stopping at her lips.  
“I think you’re pretty great without it,” Rey says, turning to change her canvas with a blank one.

“Really?” he whispers his question, feeling his body prickle with chills.

Rey’s nudity is overwhelming, especially when she crosses the room to him to pull him off of her bed. He’s going to faint. There’s just so much skin—so much begging to be touched—it’s all he can do to let her lead him around.

“Come on, big guy,” her words... he thinks... is she toying with him? “It’s your turn.”

“My?” Ben gulps again. “My turn?”

“To paint me,” Rey challenges him, removing the last article of her clothing. “Now, how do you want me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo, [TazWren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TazWren/pseuds/TazWren) teamed up with [Larissa](https://twitter.com/DarkLondonArt) and surprised me with this beautiful artwork Larissa created for this chapter. I have been meaning to post it - but time is getting away from me and quickly! I just want to tell the both of you how thankful I am for you and that this is such a wonderful gift! Thank you for being you <3   
[](https://ibb.co/9cWRN4B)
> 
> EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! <3<3<3!!!!!!!!!!!!!1


	4. Chapter 4

“Now how do you want me?” rang in Ben’s ears.

There was a softness in how she spoke, combined with her nudity that began to prickle his skin. Goosebumps stood all at once and ran up his arms and down his spine that was quickly followed by a rush of heat. His face burned and he was sure she could see it from across the room, especially when she dropped her gaze from him to the floor.

“Ben, they’re just shapes... parts of the body that is. Everyone has them,” she sighs. “If it helps, think of building your website and all of the components needed to get it up.”

“O-okay,” Ben stutters. “Sh-should I change th-the lighting? Er?”

“If you want,” Rey agrees to it. “I’d suggest you get the pose first before it’s changed though.”

Ben nods but isn’t sure how to lead this.

“I um, I’m. Uh, how would you? How do you want to?”

Rey sighs again and gets up off of the side of her bed, taking the bedding itself off. The way the light she set up for him moves over her body in mesmerizing waves of color highlighting her toned form.

“What, um?” Ben tries to ask, hypnotized by her movements.

“I have paint on me,” Ben’s eyes travel from hers to find it. “I’ll have to shower to get it off and I’d rather not waste our time,” she says, moving over the side to pull another corner.

Once she’s done, she adds, “Let’s just do something easy, Ben.” Rey flops down on her bed, resting on her back. “Rotate the canvas so it’s in landscape, so you can get all of me without it being weirdly cut off somewhere.”

When Ben does, Rey instructs him on from there on in getting him to set the wash, then glaze, then figure out her form in shapes while she lays with her arms folded behind her head.

“It’s the hardest thing you’ll do, figuring out the form. Everything else sort of falls into place after,” she says, looking over in his direction. Her gaze pins him in place. It’s not just the look she’s giving him. It’s also the way the light paints her... but then it’s in the way her chest rises and falls... the way she’s bare before him.

“Wh-What if it doesn’t?” Ben asks, trying painfully hard to get through his question. Sitting across the room doesn’t seem to help with it either. There’s something more about this, about what they’re doing. 

The possibility of screwing it up for her starts to make his skin crawl. What if they can’t do this?

“If you’re worried about Holdo, don’t be. She doesn’t expect much from the pairing. All she wants is for me to guide you through it and produce some kind of work on your end that resembles the project. The point is to make sure that we’re working together. Involving you in this portion of it now will make it easier for you when you get to sculpting. Which, honestly, we’re going to have to jump right into. There just isn’t enough time to put you through each of the steps. So, pay attention to this the best you can,” Rey says so as-a-matter-of-factly, Ben is sure she’s going to get into teaching.

Why wouldn’t she? She certainly can command a room. She had the ability to silence Armitage and could feel her power over him to a point. The feelings she could ignite were an utter surprise to him. So many things he never knew seemed to be blossoming in her presence. Even now while she holds him so comfortably in place with nothing more than a look, he’s sure she is meant for greatness. 

Ben’s thoughts start to calm allowing the start to his part of their project to flow a little more freely. Calm turns to comfort which eventually allows him to trust their situation all over again. 

All throughout the first hour, Rey’s instructed him to take pictures with his phone when he feels he needs help.

“You can delete them afterwards,” she tells him each time his request is made. 

The first time is terrible. 

It’s absolutely wrecking to have her approach him. His body was warring with itself fighting every urge to touch her. It felt like electricity was crawling between them, pulling him hard into an unseeable force like the way she’d been so close to him in the car all over again. At least there he could look away. Here... his chest heaves as he breathes deeply to keep himself from shuffling backwards. 

His height never made a difference to him, never once felt like his own power he could hold over another, but the way she moves into his space makes him feel like it could be. She’s so much smaller than he is, she’d fit perfectly in his hold if only she’d let him. If only she’d tell him. 

Ben breathes through his nose trying to control these feelings.

What  _ are they  _ anyway?

He blinks at her being only a few inches from him while she studies his work next to the photo he took.

“Not bad...” she compliments him. “Can I have your brush?”

Ben swallows making sure he doesn’t turn too far to his left to check what she’d need it for. While she may be comforting, he doesn’t necessarily feel she would be had he buried his face in the side of her... boob. There... he gave it a name... and unlike the thought that it might make him feel better to do so, it doesn’t. Instead he dies a little more inside. 

Rey, casually changes the shape of herself, starting with her head. Next she gives volume to her bicep and corrects the point of her elbow, explaining what he should be able to see there versus the weight of gravity the shadow will give to it. 

“I know that sounds like complete crap, but it’ll make sense as we go and you start to fill that in,” Rey’s says, her voice as soft as it was in school. 

She goes on to fix the curve of her back on the mattress, furthering a concept he can’t really see. 

“When you were on the bed, did the mattress conform to you or stay flat like concrete?”

“I sank a little,” Ben replies.

“Right, so there should be a dip here in the shoulders and then another here in the center of gravity.”

Center of gravity she called it. Is that an artistic name to give her… Ben’s thoughts trailed along with his eyes down the side of her body as if he was seeing her for the first time. It’s true they’d been in this room for more than a few hours, like this, her bare to him, but not like  _ this _ . Not  _ this _ close. 

Ben could barely hear her explanation, not now, not when blood started rushing south. Instead the panic of having to hide his growth courses through him. She’d kick him out on the spot, wouldn’t she? Rey wanted maturity—he bit his tongue hard enough to pull himself back from his predicament. 

“You were nearly there with the foot, but they’re tricky devils, like hands, part or the reason I covered them...for...you...” Rey’s speech slows to a stop, her brow furrows wondering what the problem is. “Ben?” Rey turned to him completely. “Is everything okay?”

Ben’s eyes bulged at the sight of her, doing his absolute best to promise he was without saying a word. 

“Are you sure? Do you want me to open a window?” Rey asks, throwing her thumb over her shoulder. She must have seen something, the time on his phone beside him to alert her to the time saying, “You know, it  _ is _ getting late... if you don’t feel like doing this I can just finish on my own.” 

Her voice wavers as she suggests it but Ben still isn't sure what to make of her. He’d love to go home to get himself back under control, but then again, he couldn’t let her down like this. 

“No... no, I-I’m okay. Maybe just a little hungry, that’s all. I think that’s it.”

Rey smiles softly letting him know they could order something, “I have tip”

Ben chokes a little at the sound of her offer.

“That is, if you want…” she looked up at him, her eyes darkening when she did. 

It isn’t one, but several moments later that he finds the courage to speak, but she beats him to it before he can try.

“I don’t want to force you to stay if you’d rather not.”

Ben does his best to assure her it’s not like that, “No, I want this. You…” he mumbles through a few curses then laughs awkwardly. “I mean, I’m fine. We can finish... then I need to eat or something.”

“Or, I mean know how to cook, if... if you want to stay,” Ben heard her offer, giving him another option. 

What was it with her tonight? 

“Okay,” he says, swallowing his next question. 

“I won’t kill you. I’ve been cooking since middle school. Jyn taught me —if you survived her cooking, you’ll survive mine,” she chuckles nervously. 

It’s the first time Ben’s seen this side of her. Rey wrings one hand around the other wrist, trying desperately hard to hide her vulnerability, and somehow Ben sees it. 

“Nah, uh—it’s fine. I’ll eat whatever you have. I’m sure you’re good. I mean. At cooking.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to bail?” 

“Do you want me to?” Ben asks, his voice threw his question a few decibels too high.

“No,” she said crossing her arms across her chest. “You just don’t look comfortable and I don’t exactly know how else to help you.”

“Um....” Ben’s eyes darted around the room trying hard not to assume she meant something else. 

“I need you to tell me... use your words, Ben,” she nearly pleaded. “I want to know what you want. Tell me, please.”

He made an attempt to clear his throat, and then again, trying desperately hard to keep it together to finish this, or at least come close. His answer was clear, “Why don’t we order so you can model until you think we’re done?”

Rey quirks her eyebrow at him curiously, accepting suggestion before heading back to her bed with a hint of a smile forming at the corner of her lips. “Order away,” she said, letting him choose what they’d be eating that night.

Throughout the rest of it their session Ben watched her explain what her body did verses his application of paint to the form they had corrected with the help of her standing mirror. She elaborates on what happens to the form in different positions. Ben watches her move from the floor to the bed and back, expressing emphasis on how she changes when she does.

“Gravity’s going to pull us in different ways,” she informed him. “Standing has my chest, as small as it is, pulling downward just so to create that slight curve there,” Rey says, using a dry brush on herself to show the curve in the mirror. “But, when I lay down, it changes,” She continues, zooming in on a picture he took. The curve here… and now it has a different weight.”

Instead of letting it go, Rey asked him to continue studying her where she was as opposed to in the photo. It takes him a while, for what feels like hours, actually, to feel slightly capable to be in close proximity to her as they are, but it’s still difficult. She’s so… so close to him. And bare… there’s so much skin...

Several times, he’d been to the bathroom to adjust himself behind closed doors, completely aware of the change in his heart rate when she’d moved into and out of position. Each time it felt like… like what they’d been doing was supposed to be more than it was to him. 

But he couldn’t be sure if it mean anything to her. 

Did it?

And then he’d seen it, he happened to catch the way her eyes seem to move over him. Down, down... down...until her eyes closed completely. It makes him nervous and excited all at once. And why did it feel like she’s calling him to her?

“Uh,” Ben rubs the back of his neck. “I think the pizza guy is here…”

Rey hummed first, then reluctantly moved to sit up which stung a little. No, it stung a lot. Whatever this was, really, had been a literal mind fuck. His body tugged on his frame to venture over to her the whole time she’d been laid out for him to study. He could see it happening too, making his way to the edge of her bed, kneeling on it to prowl over top of her. She was there for the taking and yet he’d controlled himself, repeating the need to be mature. The six letter word rattled around in his head any time she’d be near. His body seemed to sing when her naked form comfortably stood before him, and oh how lovely it was to feel the heat of her skin call to him. She would let him take photos of her, most of which had remained on the phone via breaks they’d take for teaching opportunities, and dear god the mirror. Having to school himself not to react to her, not to step forward, not to touch her skin with his own, anywhere… it was torture. 

All at once he’d started to realize his attraction to Rey and the control she truly had over him was substantial, scary even. He’d been uncomfortable going against the grain in school, never knowing what skipping classes felt like, to being paired up with this… this seductive creature. She’d been calling to him… wanting him to follow her and just as soon as she reached past him for a final time, she’d shrugged on a robe before looking over at his work to compliment him on it.

“I’d say you did well,” Rey said smiling brightly at him.    
  
Did she know?

He had so many questions. Ben grimaced at the count. He had too many questions, far too many… all of which were racing to the surface threatening to out him and his suspicions. Ben found himself stomping them back down with a shake of his head instead which in turn ended their session.

——

There was more to that night, actually. The fact that she’d gone ahead in that little scrap of nothing, thin cotton robe to the door shifted to the forefront of his mind. She was willing to answer it with practically nothing on and fucking did. What was she thinking?

Maybe she wasn’t thinking. Maybe he needed to think for her. It was a dumb idea, thinking for a woman like that, but, fuck… something could happen to her. 

His body moved before his brain did which thankfully meant his mouth was cooperating and not following up with any type of sounds. Instead, he made his way behind her at the door, eyeing the delivery guy. Ben’s shirt, still somewhere on Rey’s floor, painted the perfect picture. All the while Ben would look down at her barely hidden curves unable to differentiate between what he’d been doing for her protection and what he’d been attracted to. She’d only been a half step in front of him, Ben’s hand behind her, nearly touching the fabric found there. He’d been flirting with the idea of it until he’d heard her thank the guy and proceed to give him the tip. 

Fuck it all if she stepped back into his hand trapping it between her lower back and his abdomen. Could he explain what he’d been doing if she asked? Would he accept his boldness? Would she want him to apologize?

And yet, the world stood still. She made no attempt to move and his body reacted… oh it, it reacted alright. 

“Ben?” Rey whispered, her head turned just slightly to face him but not quite. Had he been able to look he’d have seen her fingers gripping the box, holding onto it as if her life depended on it. But hanging in that moment, all he could feel was his hand burning a print into his stomach while willing his length to retreat instead of strain against his pants, desperate to touch her. 

“Umm,” was his only response. He hadn’t had the ability to move, still willing himself to think of anything else, anything at all. 

“Ben?” she repeated her question, turning just that little bit more to allow the twinkle in her glazed eyes call to him. The moment he’d responded to her she’d asked him ever so softly to reach above her and close the door. 

He could feel himself nodding, dumbly, his other hand reaching just over her towards the thickness of her front door. His body arched over her just so making a chill run down his spine so violently he visibly shuddered. His proximity to her changing now making her feel impossibly small… and him dangerously powerful. 

Rey’s lips parted as he pressed the door into its frame. Her body flush against him, now pinned her front to that plain, and his girth flush against her covered skin. Ben could feel his hand slip from where it had been between them onto her hip, ghosting just over the wrap found there before she dropped the box to press his hand firm against her. The sound she made rumbled through him like thunder. The round curve of her slightly covered ass pressed up against his bulge making him see stars. Ben’s breath panted out of him in short breaths all of which he did his best to hold on to… to control himself, but the feel of her there and soon after, the way she’d rested her head back on his chest made him crazy. 

Ben’s hand on her hip burned there too but all the while he felt the need to hold on. She’d steady him, he thought so at least. His other hand bracketed her in, and suddenly he was aware of the hold she had on him. As frightening as it seemed, as new as it was. He couldn’t have been so thrilled to have Rey herself lead this experience. 

He’d watched the way her left hand braced herself on the door in front of her, sliding just so up towards his before planting it just out of his reach. She’d rolled her self against him once more and he couldn’t handle the way his treacherous body had responded. 

Every fiber of him wanted to grip her hips hard and grind against her. Images of the way she’d moved all day.. even her little stunts at school, or bending down in her garage urged him to claim her and yet a little sliver of rational thought raced through his mind like lightning. 

He couldn’t do this. He had to get away before he’d lost control… he had to get away before she allowed it. And so he dropped his hands from her in one fluent motion before taking off for her room. There he moved like wildfire, knocking over the pallet he’d been using, the glass jars of glaze and turpentine to be specific as he grabbed the remainder of his uniform, found his keys and booked it to the garage, not looking back at Rey, not once. He had to go… had to… he would have put her in danger if they didn’t stop, the drumming in his veins alone called him back to her

The need was real, but non truer than the pain he felt for leaving her like that, looking as if she’d been longing for him there. 

It’s not until he’s made it to the garage that he sees her again, standing deathly still in the hallway. Her frown is slight but there, her eyes desperate for an answer lost the light that had been there throughout this whole mess of a project while she watches him leave their driveway.

He knows he fucked up. He knows he did but what was he going to do? Setting rules with Rey felt like an impossible task. It was just about as hard as breathing while they were in the same room. How would this be any different?

——

The following week carried on as if nothing had happened. There were no more drawn dicks at school making Armitage lose interest in hanging around Ben for his cockumentary segments. He’d tried to stay excited for it but being around Ben’s obsessive compulsiveness got the better of Armitage making it easy for them to run in separate groups again. The two of them inadvertently trying to help the other find the sad elephants that Rey had mentioned on his windows was one of the reasons Ben didn’t believe they were through yet. They still hadn’t caught the pervert. Not only that but they hadn’t even narrowed down the search. Anyone could have drawn those penis… the staff weren’t even off the table for it. 

So what did it just stop? 

Ben checked his phone, the stats for that damned show tripled by then. He shook his head unable to imagine that it could have been all the publicity of the stunt that got the perp to stop. It didn’t seem to matter when it was rising before, so why now?

Rey has been nonexistent with him, which probably served him right. The events of that day haunted him through the week and trying to talk to her through texts seemed wrong. Even that was a strange concept to accept. Communication was communication, text or not, but in the last few weeks of her training, he’d learned she preferred face to face interactions… which left texting off the table. 

Rey, though, hadn’t escaped his thoughts for even a second making his days that much harder to push through. The only thing that could truly stop it was maybe doing as she asked in the beginning and getting that interview with her. That was it! If he did his part of the deal, she’d forgive him and be ecstatic for it. She’d let this whole thing go and their lives would go back to the normalcy they once had.

Within the hour he’d found himself in the library, letting classes pass, never once getting up with the bell, or following his schedule at all. He’d focused his time on building the segment, research on Holdo’s funding, what’s received, what the projected amount would be each year, why it doubled - even tripled one year and stayed at the same increment several years after. What changed? Who was responsible for it. Ben’s research fanned the flames of his questions, all worrying around the aspect of being excited about the process and hyping up her presence in it based on the notation Rey had given him that first day. 

The interview would be a delicate process. One she had to agree to if he was going to publish it online. Ben groaned at the fan based that damned vandal show had given his website. The content there almost nearly meant he would be restricted from posting it there,  _ even though  _ that was his portfolio… there had to be a way to get around that. Maybe he could just say he wouldn’t, or just not bring it up? Yeah… that sounded better. Unless she asked… Ben struggles to conquer that riddle all day it seemed only to add a note to himself to see if she had a preference. 

It wasn’t long before he found himself moving finally. It was time to face the music and get down stairs to the art room where Rey’d been all day. If she hadn’t skipped that is. The girl was notorious for it, and now that he’d… well… he sort of didnt expect to see her. 

There was a strange silence to the hallway between periods, like something was going to give but no matter how had he looked, there hadn’t been anything more drawn anywhere, not even the little marker drawn ones on the floor made to look look like sneaker prints with testicals. He kicks himself for remembering that considering it hadn’t even been reported on. Those were treated like spills and bleached by the custodial team. Ben can nearly taste the smell they’d brought on over those which wound up locking him in his thoughts all the way to the art room. There Rey was slicing into a wedge of clay with metal wire and heaving said chunk over to a large table with several artists already working. 

Ben talked himself up only to stand in the doorway a beat longer. She’d want to hear from him, he nodded at himself. 

“Which one of you  _ assholes _ have been sticking dildos on my seats?” Armitage roared, stalking into the studio with a bag full of evidence. “And where the hell were you?” He huffed at Ben like he should have known he’d been looking for him. 

“Class,” he lied. 

“Bullshit - if you were in class you’d have seen these, these…”

“Micro penises?” Rey bent over his bag to look at the lot. “Or are the mushrooms?” Rey clicked her tongue at the roof of her mouth, then added, “oh, these aren’t either. They’re erasers. See how pink and  _ hard _ the are? Perfect for…you know, rubbing?”

Ben stopped listening, his ears began ringing while his eyes blurred. “Pink and what?” he mumbled after her.

“Why are you so bent out of shape about erasers?” Rey continued, sidestepping Armie to get her tools. 

“Tell me you have eyes, Rey. They are most definitely not erasers,” Armitage snatched up one by the obvious cap. 

“Careful,” Rey purred. “I hear that the cap is  _ sensitive _ , just like you…”

“I am not  _ sensitive _ !” he snorted. 

“ _ Class _ ,” Mr. Andor warned before the bell rang. 

_“I am not_ _sensitive_!”Armitage whisper hissed at her. 

“And yet you continue…” 

Ben can only chew on his bottom lip, unsure of what to say first, when the obvious wasn’t as clear cut as it once was. 

Rey moved on to a line of printed reference models that resembled him in some way. 

“Whatareyadoin?” Ben mumbled his question. 

“Work,” Rey answered.

“With… those?” 

“Yeah?”

“I thought…”

“Me too, and yet here we are. It’s fine,” she confirmed. “I can handle this on my own. Don’t you have something you can do?” Rey didn’t bother looking up at him while she sliced the block into four equal parts for each of her projects he assumed and yet he couldn’t help but linger. He watched her make quick work of the first form, using various tools to remove the excess clay. Those pieces were pressed into each other creating a heap of scraps. He watched how her hands would move along the tool to remove them, how she’d pinch and roll it off of the flat metal hook. Twenty minutes had gone by and he’d only changed his location by a couple feet and found a stool to sit beside her on. There he pulled up his notes but spent most of his time watching her. 

Given how fast she moved with setting the form, she’d been more delicate with the way she’d focused on his personal fine details. To start, she scored his head with deep lines in both the wig of a clay cap she made for his head and the skull itself. Cradling the hair piece in one hand, she moved to reach for a fine but thick bristle brush to sop it on the form and his hair. He watched intently while she attached it but unlike the first time she explained reasoning to him, she ignored the chance. Instead, Rey attached it properly with an assortment of tools before moving on to the fine details that included deepening the etched lines and removing any pilled balls of it that seemed to gather more for her thanks to her speed. 

After that was the addition of his facial features, ears, which she didn’t skimp on, and raised beauty marks. He continued watching while her fingers smoothed out any unwanted angles which forced him to face the unspoken. Their...moment together, if he could call it that had been enlightening and terrifying all at once but he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her, not since they sat down anyway… and surely, it wasn’t because of that…

“If you’re going to watch,” she pulled him from his thoughts, “the least you can do is try along with me.”

Ben was sure the color in his face drained just then. Was she asking him to make a figure of himself or her? 

“If you still have those pictures on your phone,” she whispered.

Ben groaned internally. Did she know he still had them? And if so, how? He clearly remembers her saying that they were references and that he needed to be mature about it...mature… for the first time in forever, Ben is almost positive he might not be able to control himself. Especially not when she looked over at him briefly to check his status on that and then return to her work. Rey continued working on the sculpture of him in a crouching, hunterly stance. She’d fine tuned his toned torso, then on to the figure’s muscular thighs only to stop at his question. The traitor slipped and before he knew it, she’d leaned close enough to him to nearly taste the mint of her gum when she spoke, saying, “I’ll only add your package if you would grow a pair and talk to me.”

Her comment was as sharp as smelling salts. What happened? Why was she so upset with him?

Rey stood abruptly bagging the figure before moving on to the next one, making a scene about shlongs. 

“Ya see,” she started. “Ya dont even really have to be a man to own one…” 

Oh no…

Students at her table quieted down to watch the show. Rey, while quiet, wasn’t even detectable, but when she was mad she was a spectacle to see. 

She ripped the clay block in half and clapped her hands around the edges over and over again until the corners fell in on themselves. She continued this motion making each sound a little louder than the other as she ran her mouth about how much trouble they could be.

“These things,” she rolled out a cylinder, “Make even the most intelligent people, idiots.” 

As the form became longer despite its accuracy, Ben couldn’t help but imagine the concept she was going for. Yep. He called it, Ben basically cheered for himself in his mind for figuring out the beyond basic look of the phallic item erect before him. 

“As I see it, they’ll only hurt you in the end.”

That was uncalled for, Ben thought, then grimaced when Mr. Andor made it to their table with an unreadable expression. 

Rey seemed to know it and well though. It was some fancy language she’d been on about, replying, “I’m plenty mature Mr. Andor. Just having a venting session is all…”

“And what do you make of your… wand?” the man did his best to clear his throat. Wand was very obviously not the word he wanted to use. 

“It’s magic…” she replied tightening her grip on the base of it until some of the soft clay broke off and dropped to the floor. Rey looked quite pleased with herself as nearly every guy swallowed hard suspecting the piece that dropped was entirely planned. 

Except of course for Mr. Andor. He couldn’t be swayed. It had been four years of her after all. 

“Roll it up and return it to the can,” 

“Gladly,” she interrupted him, squashing the rest of the clay along with it before throwing it back into the bin. Her fingers were stained with the red clay but she couldn’t care less it seemed.

Was now a bad time to bring up his plan to do the interview, he wondered. Would it correct this? Of course it would, Ben picked up his stuff to make his way to follow her what Armitage clapped his hand on Ben’s shoulder, nodding in Rey’s direction. 

“I think we have our first suspect.”

  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

“I don’t see it,” Ben rolls his eyes up at Armitage for even suggesting Rey could be the one behind all the dickings. 

Why would he anyway? Rey had been nothing but  _ patient  _ with him. Just the very fact that she refrained from publicly humiliating him for, well, what exactly? It wasn't like he really could put a name to what it was that happened between them. Suddenly, the air around him felt thick, nearly enough to choke him on every inhale while he remembered those moments.

Armitage’s voice had been the only thing that called him back. He’d missed most of it, but what he did get was the fact that the kid thought it was a good enough lead as any. “I mean how many people make that many cross references to penises? Did you hear  _ anyone _ else chime in?”

Ben lingered on the thought of her being the culprit and then what confronting her about it would be like. How the hell he would do it? It’s not like its easy being around her either. The girl is intense, like lightning in a bottle, and for some reason she’d given more than her time to him. 

She’d be mad, he thought. 

She’d be  _ really _ mad. Maybe even angry enough to do something about it...

Was she already angry with him? Was she doing the phallic art because of it? 

Concern bubbled up in him then flushed it immediately out of his system when she turned back towards them. Rey locked eyes with Ben, a look he’d seen at her house… one he recognized as a language all her own. One that called to him in a way he couldn't quite place but knew he needed to go to her.  _ Now _ . 

Armitage’s body then cut into view, shielding Ben from what he’d been feeling. 

“Did you hear me at all?” the ginger asked. 

“Um,” Ben answered dumbly. He’d seen the way Armitage turned to look behind him, then face him again. “No.” 

His classmate crouched down so that his ice blue eyes were the only thing Ben could fixate on to repeat his message. 

“She’s our lead. I don’t care what you have to do to get her to come clean but do it,” Armitage said lowly. “Or I will.”

Ben could feel his muscles tense at the sound of his promise. It felt more like a threat. And what was worse was of the student body, Armitage was the one with the resources to end someone’s career before they had the chance to start it. All that kid had to do was give the word and it would be done. 

That pill was a tough one to swallow. Ben had wanted to be Armitage’s friend forever and now this girl had opened his eyes in ways he never thought of before. The trouble was, how would he avoid the inquiries going forward? How was he going to get around the last month of school without making Rey hate him more and keeping the rest of his life intact? Or hers for that matter? 

“W-what if it isn't her?” Ben stuttered. 

“What do you mean “ _ if _ it isn't her?” 

Armitage grabbed a stool to sit next to him rather than tower over. Ben figured it would call less attention to the two of them which only kicked his mind into gear again, making it hard to hear his partner’s theory. 

“Think about it Ben. Was she ever there while these things were happening?”

“No.”

“So you admit being alone?”

“For the first one, yes…” Ben’s brow furrowed. “She was with me though, when you did your report… you know with the--”

“ _ Yes, _ ” he hissed. “ _ I know! _ ” 

Ben happened to look up his site on his phone, bringing up the incident. 

“You know you went really far to make it a thing… with your… outfit,” Ben commented. “Are you sure you didn't do it to your car? You are the only one with your keys you know.”

“ _ Are you accusing me? _ ” Armitage leans to the side to look at Ben in shock. 

“I mean, she was nowhere  _ near  _ you.”

“She didn’t have to be  _ near  _ me, she had to be  _ in the lot! _ ” 

Mr. Andor looked up from his computer screen to check on the noise. 

“We’re fine - all fine... “ Armitage raised his hand to let their teacher know. 

“But the point is, I found her in the hall before school let out - I mean I pissed her off,” Ben thinks about what happened. “She was mad…at… both of us, wasn't she?”

Armitage’s eyes narrowed as he listened then lit up, nodding as he went. 

“She was.”

“You don't think she ran off from us when we were ignoring her to vandalize your car do you? I mean the rain didn't start until the afternoon.” Ben continued. “That still doesn't mean that she could have gotten in without breaking in unless she called someone to help her - do you think she’d do that?”

“That sounds drastic,” Armitage answers. “But everyone knows I never lock my doors. No one is stupid enough to cross me. Unless she’s that stupid.”

Ben’s vision went red at the sound of him talking down about Rey. If - If she did these things, maybe she had reasons, but that didnt mean she was  _ stupid _ . Ben pursed his lips then bit them before replying, “She isnt stupid.”

Armitage scoffs, “She must be if she fucked with me, Ben. You should know that.”

“What in the hell does that mean?” he countered.    
  


“Do you really think it was your luck that got us on level speaking terms? You know, where I wasn't making fun of you constantly?”   
  
“You were making fun of me?” Ben sounded more concerned than he wanted to. In a way he was sure that he was being treated differently, but did not want to assume things. Ben would go along with it thinking that maybe this time his optimism would turn things around for the two of them. “You… you’re using me?” 

His bow bends again, this time his frown is apparent. 

“Oh, don't act like that,” the boy countered. “It’s not everyday some weird story drums up internet fame. You didn't want it and I came in to rescue you from it.”

“That’s not exactly what happened,” Ben replied, looking at his phone again. 

“Isn’t it though? Why dont you take another look?” 

The count had stopped on all videos. Viewers started linking a crappy video that Armitage made over finding the first clay dick on his seat, mentioning how he didn't even look at the chair and just sat down. His selfie stick hadn’t seen so much usage throughout a school day, Ben thinks, seeing the way that he’d bickered with posters while pushing through the photo bombers and every last student to find yet another mushroom sized dick on his seat. There were flashes of the sandwich bag he started with that soon overflowed with those tiny dicks. He filmed himself getting a larger bag from the small lab garbage cans that were just a little larger than shopping bags to hold his loot. If he should even call it that. 

Ben had to hand it to the kid though. He knew how to work the crowd, talk to his viewers like they were in the room with him, explaining the situation, then answering their questions on a live feed, something he himself wasn't that comfortable with. The comments on his feeds were enough to deal with and often times he stayed off of them. 

Ben remembered his feed and how Rey seemed to always be there making absolutely sure he was being stood up for. He half smiled at the sentiment, only forwarding the thought that it couldn't possibly be her. 

“The fact of the matter is, is that she’s the only hot headed flight risk in this facility. Not even Jessi over there is  _ that  _ off the walls, and  _ that _ girl has enough going on for her, and  _ don't even get me going _ about that kid Poe,” he rolled his eyes. 

“What? He’s your friend, should you really be talking about him like that?”

“You really  _ are  _ dense aren't you?” 

Ben just looked back at his phone. 

“This is high school, man. It’s just four years of nonsense before we get to start our real life. This shit? It’s not real. Vandalizing someone's car?  _ Thats real _ . Getting subscribers on stupid ass videos, thats real. Any idea why?”

Ben had a feeling he knew… 

“Money,” Armitage said. “Money is the reason for everything. Now, Rey there? She cost me money by destroying my car…”

“Hardly,” Ben retorted. “You said it yourself,” he played back the video for the guy to hear what he quoted them as. “It took you half a paper towel roll to clean it up.”

“That and my time, and my time is? Any idea, Ben?”

He snorted asking for any deity to save him from this madness. 

“Money, Ben. My time is money, and she wasted it. And now she’s going to pay.”

The kid was torturing him now. Every last second of the day Armitage was at his side making it difficult to even see Rey. Not that she made it as easy as she once did for him. She’d always find him… always. The loss of it made him uncomfortable, like he was missing part of himself. 

When he would go to take his phone out of his pocket to call her, Armitage was there, ready to pick it out of his hand at any given moment. Part of Ben wanted to punch him, and the rational side of him knew not to. These were new feelings that he never explored, ones he was sure that he’d get suspended for if he used them, and words - gods - words were hard enough to use. If it was difficult to talk to Armitage before, it was certainly harder now and there was no true end in sight for stopping him now. 

  
Except, of course, outing Rey, even if she didn't do it.

Where was she anyway? 

Was she walking home? Or was she waiting for him? He swallowed knowing full well that if she was he certainly didn't deserve her to be. They hadn’t even spoken since class, and that was  _ barely  _ considered a conversation. She gave him the look too, and he didn't respond to it. 

Was there a connection between what Armitage said and what she was doing? 

Now being on his radar, he figured Ben would just call and try to stop her, _ if of course _ , it was her. 

“ _ Oh! Good _ ,” he heard Armitage say and out slipped his phone from Ben’s ear. 

What the--

Fuck.

Armitage got it. 

_ He got it.  _

Which means he’d be able to… he’d be able to access his pictures in one click. One wrong app selection and there goes his girl’s… wait…

His?

What  _ was  _ Rey to him? 

It was dangerous now to start thinking about this. What they were. What they could have been if he, well he… what did he have to do to find out?

Her expectations of a conversation came to mind again, but what about before that? What about when they were in her house? What about all that time they spent together? What about…

His eyes flicked back to his phone in that creep’s hands. 

His thumb striking near the top of his screen. Ben cant be sure if he’s hit it or the calendar. Or what? What else is in the top line? Or second line? He tries to focus but instead lunges for the phone instead. 

“What the hell are you—” Armitage catches the way Ben surges towards him, bracing for impact. The two fall with the phone still in Armie’s hand, his thumb hitting Rey’s contact number, but neither realize this. Instead, Ben shoves Armitage down, snatching his phone back. 

“ _ Use your own phone, _ ” he snorted at the guy, making  _ absolutely sure _ to hide his photos app within another folder on his interface. 

“You’re weird man. You did that over your phone?” he grunted. “You treat that thing like it’s… your…”

The silence said it all. 

Reading between the lines hadn't been a trait of Ben’s but boy could he hear that word, loud and clear… 

“...girlfriend,” Armitage frowned. 

Ben couldn't help the way he stood that much taller, as if he filled into himself hearing the word. 

_ Was Rey his? Was that why she…  _

If he closed his eyes he could hear her,  _ feel  _ her. 

_ Oh, gods, he screwed up.  _

Ben watched as Armitage’s face morph from teasing to concrete, “You’ve gotta be shitting me.  _ You? You have a girlfriend?”  _ Armitage broke out into a giddy chuckle, asking him if his girl  _ is  _ the phone first then something more serious. “Who is it, man. You can tell me…”

The thing was he couldn’t, not really. Rey needed to tell him if that was what they were. What she meant for them to be at least. If he’d known… he weighed what could have been with having to answer Armitage in a way that would have him drop the subject completely. 

His first and only unflattering word that slipped his lips was “Holdo.” 

He groaned the moment the woman’s name left his mouth. Never being one to lie, anything except for Rey’s name sounded foreign enough to work. Except… except...now he’s panicking, doing anything at all to stay upright instead of fainting or feeling the need to vomit, because what he just suggested was not only wrong but the best kind of material for Armitage to lean on. He had to think fast, had to regain control, and by some miracle, he knew to open his mouth and follow with “interview.”

“ _ You’re dating your interview? _ ” the boy stifled a laugh. “You really are weird.” 

Fine. Ben thought, it was all fine. Armitage could think he was weird all he wanted. The fact of the matter was that he protected Rey, whether or not they were something, and the possibility of that jerk finding her photos. 

\---

Ben could feel the weight of what happened but not to the magnitude of what he did the moment he’d gotten home. The reality of it hit him like a freight train when he’d made it to his room. He’d brought up the pictures to thumb through them only to realize she’d been giving him the same look she challenged him with all that time ago about skipping school with her. She may as well have laid a welcome sign at her feet - it couldn't have been more obvious, lest the whole concept of her using her words… that would have been extremely helpful, he promised himself. 

He could feel it now, the warmth in her eyes, the way she promised him so much, he just wished there was a way he could reverse time... to know what he knew now, then. Maybe then she’d want to talk to him again. Maybe then she’d let him in, let him try. 

His photographic memory took over, remembering past the image of her, the way she moved… he swallowed, how confident she was. Had she known what she was doing to him? Did she want that? Oh, the thought of her wanting that awoke something inside of him, something that drove him a little crazy, a little more experimental. 

  
It wasn't necessarily that Ben hadn’t felt these urges before. He certainly knew how to take care of himself, but the thought of how she rubbed body against his length sent his freehand on a mission down his torso to lazily undo his belt buckle. He listened to the way the metal tinged as it hit itself, the way the leather moved against the material of his slacks as if they’d been amplified. He could hear his labored breathing hitch when his thumbnail caught just under the button there. It took some effort to force it through it’s loop but when it was free Ben felt as though he was too. His zipper fell easily now and his hand impatiently began to rub his length through his boxer briefs. Ben’s eyes fixated on hers, verbalizing breathy wishes while he sucked in breath after needy breath of cool clean air. 

Ben’s room smelled like a box full of dryer sheets which meant his mother was in it recently. He scanned the room looking for any evidence, any at all, that she might be there, catching him in his time of need. What a mistake this would have truly been if his hoodie that had been hanging off the hook on the back of his door truly was her. Oh gods, he moaned, was it. Ben forced himself to look again, noticing now for a second time it was definitely  _ not _ his mother.

His head dropped to the side of his pillow as he finally made the decision to go for it, pulling himself out of his boxers to tower over his body, erect and at attention. Ben hissed as he wrapped his large, warm hand around his length, giving himself one, very rough and deliberate stroke up to gather his beading precum, then down again. Ben’s heartbeat roared in his ears as the sticky, thin film began to cover him on every deliberate thrust downward, twisting his direction just slightly as he continued to push himself onward into a delicious stuper. 

Ben knew he was close by the way his vision began to whiteout and his body bowed himself off of his bed. With the small amount of control he had left Ben blinked and could nearly imagine the taste of her skin. He frowned slightly thinking that was a new need. He wondered if it was the possibility of a relationship past what they had; the word girlfriend repeated in his head over and over again bringing him higher and higher. 

The moment the chase ended and he found himself falling off the edge of reality his phone buzzes in his hand. His heart hammered in his chest while his release sputtered out of him, a picture of her he didn’t take filled the screen. Rey’s smile was mischievous and somehow all knowing. The picture she must have taken was a combination of her challenging look and a seductive half smile. Her teeth bit into one side of her lower lip while the other popped open. Had he known it was even there, he was sure that would have been enough to push him over. 

Ben shook through his breathy release but the thought of not answering her felt awful. If she found out? That could be bad, but ignoring her, he already knew was wrong. He could do this, he thought. 

Ben answered his phone, expecting to only hear her voice but, really, when did she ever just call? He’d seen the odd expression on her face, trying to assess if he was alright or not, before settling when he did doen into his pillow. 

“Are you okay?” Rey asked softly. 

Her genuine interest felt as soft as his down pillows and he resisted the need to touch one just to be sure. 

“Uh, y-yeah,” he answered, because while his nerves screamed that he was going to get caught, his body hummed with a minimal amount of contentment. He nodded at himself answering a question she didn’t ask. It would be far better with her… but he didn’t delve too far into the notion. Ben didn’t exactly know if this was real or not. 

“Are you sure? You look paler than you usually do,” she said. 

She knows. 

Or at least pays a lot of attention to him, which is soothing in a way he can’t quite describe.

“Yeah?” he replied, unable to keep the hoarseness from his voice. 

“Yeah,” she lingered. Her brow knit and face frowned just so, emitting concern, then she added, “I’ll be over in five minutes.”

Wait, what?

“You look like you need someone. I’m not far,” she promised. “I’ll be right there.” 

She ended the call before he could protest, and then set in the panic. His room no longer smelled clean - instead more like his release. His senses kicked into hyperdrive, scared she’d notice a he surged upright against his body’s will to get changed and do something, anything about the smell. 

Ben got the slightest whiff of the dryer sheets once again and he was out of his room and down the hall in a flash. A boxful came back with him. Several were mixed in with his hamper. Another few wound up in pillow cases and when that proved to be nearly enough to mask it, Ben even rubbed the starch off of a few on his blanket because he couldn’t be sure if any of his come shot on to it. And god, not that he thought he’d really have her in here, he was sure that she’d be the person to find it. 

The very thought made him groan. 

She  _ would _ be the one to find it too.

But now there’s no time. He checked his phone, then heard the knock all the way back in his room - the  _ other side of the house.  _

Another groan slipped him when he heard his mother open the door… “noooo” he whispered in quiet protest, then realized the weight of even that. She  _ was _ home! Was she in his room? Was that not what he thought he saw? 

_ Argh! _

Answers… he needed answers. 

No… he needed excuses.

No… 

“Benny?” he heard his mother say. “Were you expecting? I’m sorry dear, what was your name?”

“Rey,” she answered sweetly. 

“Yeah!” he tried interrupting but of course his mother gushed about, well, everything from how pretty she was to her loaded twenty question routine, the first of which was, “Are you Ben’s little girlfriend?” 

A small “it’s complicated” fluttered around in his mind, threatening to leave his lips when he could hear Rey answer brightly, “Well…”

It wasn't a no. 

It wasn't a straight out no… and that had him surging out of his room and down the stairs to collect her. “She’s my partner,” he paused to look at her, taking in the way her eyes seemed to twinkle, then turned slightly to answer his mother. “We started a couple months ago on this huge art project and we have two weeks to finish, so I’m gonna just take a rain check on the rest of this conversation,” he said, feeling bolder than ever, Ben grabbed Rey by the hand and guided her back into his room. 

_ Oh yeah, the state of his room.  _

“You’re not getting out of this Benjamin Solo!” They were his mother’s last words before he closed the door as if he was being stalked by a predator. His back now against the door, breathing a quiet sigh of relief was enough to get Rey to chuckle. 

“You look a little better than before,” she started. “A little less… you know, I’m not sure what I’d call it. You just looked like you needed... someone.” 

Ben felt as though he swallowed his tongue. Actually, there was a chance he did. Fighting his weightlessness while focusing on the way she said she came for him was a challenge. It was harder than any test he’d ever taken, and now? Well, now he had to respond.

“Well,” he tried to get the words flowing. He watched her while she regarded him with the same sort of nervousness she hadn’t displayed before which set him at ease. “You could say that,” Ben cringed. Those words were hard for him but not what she needed to hear. Rey blinked then looked down at the floor. What he wouldn’t have seen before was now more prominent, thanks to her. “Yes,” he cleared his throat. “What I mean is, I needed you. A-and I’m glad you came.”

First he noticed the blush in her cheeks, then the way she looked up at him. It was a sign that he was learning at least. One he would hold on to. One he wasn't afraid of… and it was because of her that he’d even gotten here. 

“I’m glad you picked up then,” she added. 

“Me too,” he whispered. 

The two of them stood there awkwardly, neither knowing quite what to do next, which when Ben realized it, found refreshing. It gave him time to really see her. Study her, almost. Just as his gaze made it to her lips, she broke the trance, turning slightly away from him to ask what happened this afternoon. 

He felt like his insides had been ripped out when she did but it helped him refocus. Ben needed to remember, to put it - them back together.

“Armitage thinks you’re the one drawing the dicks,” Ben cringed and Rey stopped moving. 

That was not how he wanted to start this conversation. 

“I mean… I wanted to talk to you. About it. It not being the dicks but, um, what happened. You know… on Saturday?” Ben struggled to say.

“That’s why you were laid out like you were dying?” she asked.

“Kinda,” his voice cracked when he answered her. 

_ Kinda  _ sounded like he stepped on a squeaky chew toy, making his cheeks burn automatically. 

_ Gods save him, he groaned.  _

“I mean, yes.”

“Because you’d have to talk to me?”

Ben shook his head, “Not exactly. I mean, you’re so sure of yourself and confident, and I feel like I’ve just grown legs and have to run with you to have a chance. It’s just all so new, what you’re teaching me, and I don’t really know what I’m doing,” he says looking at his feet. “Not  _ knowing  _ isn't my thing. I’ve  _ learned  _ and  _ known  _ everything I do since I was a kid. And you --” Ben finally looked up at her. “You take everything I know and turn me all around, and somehow I’m just supposed to get it.”

Rey simply nodded. None of the light in her eyes dimmed but she seemed a little like she could understand. 

“I wasn't always like this. I mean, like super assertive and obnoxious,” she started.

“You’re not obnoxious,” Ben interrupted. 

“I know I’m doing it Ben. It’s on purpose. A lot was to help you in the beginning.”

“Help me?”

“Well, yeah. You were just so  _ oblivious _ . Armitage and practically the whole student body doesn't know what to do with you because you were all about your facts and nothing else phased you. Like, there was no connection, nothing that weighed you down into this world. I figured being someone that stood up for you would help, but even  _ then  _ you didn't get it.” 

Rey went on about his website and that audience he mustered up, giving him the reality of the situation, only to find Ben in a state of confusion. 

The truth was, Ben missed a lot. 

A lot. 

And when he opened his mouth next to speak, he’d only replied with, “Well, I have Holdo’s interview scheduled for tomorrow so that’ll help bring it back to a normal audience. And Armitage said he was trying to take it over anyway, the cockumentaries…”

Rey’s brow furrowed. 

“That’s what you got from this conversation?” she asked, waving her hands in front of her face to stop him from continuing. “You started really strong, telling me your feelings and all and then we’re back to square one. What aren’t you seeing that I have to re-explain? These people are using you, Ben. Do you know what that means? To be used? Plenty of people used me when I was younger, and I counted on it to feel something, anything, maybe even think I was alive for a moment in time, but it never panned out. Not like the way it is with you anyway. You just make me feel like I want to be around, like I can be myself. Do you know how  _ good  _ that feels? How bad I want to chase it?” 

She was moving toward him now. Instead of feeling panicked, he felt a mixture of both needing to calm her down so that he could calm himself down too. 

“.. _ .I wanted you to have it too _ . To have a chance to  _ feel  _ something more.” 

His brain seemed to malfunction after that. Was it time to ask her if she was his girlfriend, like Armitage brought up?

“I… I…” he stuttered. 

She could see it in the way she was looking at him, how impossibly close she was that if he threw another fact or plan at her she was going to leave. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just, I got scared and wanted to respect you. You didn't deserve any less.” Ben admitted.

He watched her close her eyes and nod. 

“So this? We’re just friends then right? I just, I need to know where I stand with you.” Rey rushed out.

_ Ohmygodtherewasmore... _

His treacherous brain faltered, giving her whatever she wanted, whatever she’d ask for, agreed with her. 

“Okay,” she whispered. 

Silence seemed to stretch between them, each warring with themselves over what to say next, when Rey asked for the details about his interview for Holdo and agreed that it would be a good one. Definitely what the school needed to see, which made him proud. Then she turned to grab her bag from where she tossed it on the floor, saying, “I’m free at the end of the week if you wanted to interview me. You know, for your cockumentaries, that is.”

“You’d agree to do that?” Ben felt uncomfortable asking her, nearly bashful that she’d said it’s title and all. 

“Yeah,” she said simply. “Besides, it might help break the ice.”

\----

The next day just felt like more than a day. 

The student body was all wound up being that there was now legitimately seven days of school left before summer vacation, which meant that the entire school was being altered to handle the set up of Holdo’s art show… it was just a lot of change. Something Ben dreaded and loved all at once. 

Last year the school had even moved a whole section of lockers to display a floor to ceiling structure that encouraged people to crawl through like they were on a playground to learn about how both physics and art comes together in both simple and complex structures. Ben, honestly, enjoyed from a distance. His size alone suggested that he should avoid that one, but it was interesting. His lockers being moved would be less than ideal, but to his relief, they weren't. 

Making it to his locker was easy enough, but making it out of the section proved to be the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. Armitage was there and was furious. 

Not only did they take ONLY his locker, which happened to be an end unit, right by the wall, but it also happened to be replaced by a cast phallic item, which could have only meant that if it was Rey, she spent time sanding then buffing out the paint, melted down and recast in a form, and the only true reason he would have known that was due to his fascination with motorcycles. Ben caught himself before starting down a path he couldn't pay attention to now.

_ He had to get out of there. Now! _

“WHERE IS SHE!?” Armitage hissed. 

“Woah man, you need to calm down,” Dameron said, getting a kick out of the design and all. “Whoever did this is a genius! They even has you bending over to unlock the--”

“ _ Ya done?” _

“No, dude. Ya gotta tell me ya see the humor in this.”

Armitage's death stare was not enough. Nothing was. 

If this masterpiece was Rey’s work Ben knew he’d have to get to her first. 

“Ah! Got it!” Dameron said showing his success. He’d held the lock he got off of it but no thanks from Armitage. 

The last thing Ben remembered seeing was a load of pink silicone, cylindrical items poking out at him. He could no longer pretend it wasn't Rey. He’d even started saying to himself that she would be suspended and what if that meant she missed her art show… she’d fail and have to repeat the school year. That wouldn't do… Ben promised her in his head that he would protect her at all costs. Armitage wouldn't ruin her and neither would she. 

Ben had the video of Armitage’s recording playing live in his pocket, on silent, but live to know where he was at any given moment. 

“Mr. Solo?” Mrs. Holdo asked, standing outside of the office.

Ben’s head whipped around fast, nearly too fast to be honest, making him a little less secure on his feet. 

“Woah, easy there,” she commented, waiting for him to gather himself. When he did, she offered time to do their interview that moment because of some of the set up required throughout the day, she had to reschedule.

Ben could only agree. He  _ needed _ this, it was his part of their assignment. The only assignment. And for what it was worth, he knew Rey could hold her own. That was evident, but it didn’t make it any easier leaving his current path to handle this new one. 

He found himself in her office in a blink of his eye, his nerves impressively shot, shook him to the core. This was it. Rey’s answers were staring him in the face, just about ready to come out, ready for the big reveal, all she could have ever wanted here and now.

_ He couldn’t mess this up.  _

“I have about thirty minutes, if you wanted to start,” she said. Her tone clipped, made him wonder if Rey got her edginess from this lady. 

Maybe that was part of it. 

Holdo made Rey feel unappreciated, and he couldn’t be having that. 

Ben pulled out the phone and turned off the video to begin to record their session. 

“Is that necessary?” she asked, lifting her eyebrow to Ben’s phone.

“Yes,” he says, lifting his pen and paper. “No laptop.”

“Where is it?”

“Left it at home,” Ben cleared his throat knowing that was very unlike himself to be underprepared. 

“Hmm,” she said in response. 

“It’s fine, really. Just an error on my part.”

“Distracted are you?” she grins. 

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing. Nothing, it’s no business of mine,” she started. “So, I’m dying to know what I have to do with your project. Rey said the theme was “good and evil.”

“Yeah,” he clicked his pen. “First we need to go over some basics,” he said, doing the usual precursor questions. Normal background story - routine nonsense. 

It took him no time to get through them, just letting her speak into the phone was exceptionally helpful while he ticked off information on his questionnaire.

He’d begun getting into the meatier questions he had for her when Armitage started banging on the door and calling for Ben. 

“I know you’re in there, Solo!”

“Do you need to take this?” Holdo asked, nodding at the door. 

“I’d really rather not,” Ben said, keeping his voice low. 

“It seems like it’s important.” 

_ “It isn’t! _ ” Ben promised tightly. “We only have seven minutes and another page to get to. I really don't need any interruptions and that's all Armitage is being.”

“Where’s the girl?! I fucking know its her!”

Ben shot up out of his chair to shut Armitage up. He ripped open the door to catch his eye, then scanned over the masses interested in finding her too. Kids raised their phones trying to record the confrontation, soaking in as much “fame” as they could when Ben looked back down at the ginger in front of him. 

“Leave her alone,” Ben growled. 

“Ah! So you know then.”

“Know what?”

“That it’s her… and what’s this? You’re protecting her now?” 

“You’re overreacting, Hux.”

“I’m not sure that's the word, Solo. I think I’m reacting in just the right ways considering all of the damage she’s done, this here is our one ticket to get back at her and you know what else,” he winked.

“Don’t,” Ben grabbed for his phone. “I have an interview with her set up for later this week. You’ll get your answers then and only then because we have the rest of our work to do,” he said closing Holdo’s door in his face. 

“I have to offer you an applause, Ben,” Mrs. Holdo stood up and rounded her desk to do so. “That took guts, kid. I take it Rey had something to do with this change.”

Ben stayed still, nodding only slightly by the door. He couldn't believe how well he kept it together. Not that he couldn't before, but something about the confrontation made him flighty and yet he stayed. He stood up for her, for them… 

“I need to be going but I can finish these out and have them back to you by the end of the day if that works for you.” 

“Uh,” Ben can feel the way his skin prickles at the concept. She wouldn't want to answer at least ten of them, and now she’d have the chance to skip them if she so chose. 

“It’ll be fine. I’ve already looked over them and expect your work to be thorough. I have followed your career and expect bigger things from you in your lifetime,” she said. “But this will do for now.” 

Ben nodded slightly again before striding across the room to shake her hand. Next, picked up his phone and accidentally clicked the loading video. It showed Armitage finding a note looped around the head of a silicone cock that the boy read silently, then crumbled in his fist with such fury, even Ben cringed. 

“I should probably get someone to remove that,” she added calmly. 

“You know?”

“It’s hard not to,” she added pulling a filing cabinet drawer open to the right of her. “You see these?” Mrs. Holdo waited for Ben to look. “These are all the case files for every teacher and staff member for this year alone. You know why it’s in here?”

Ben shook his head dumbly. 

He really had no idea. 

“It’s because it’s overflowing into my office. There's nowhere else to put the complaints they make in reference to the student body and how they’re being affected by their jobs. This program puts out enough money in funds every year to help aid those people. I know it seems shallow or wrong, but it’s the only way to ensure we don't lose our teachers for kids right out of school. Their thin skin wouldn't last a day behind these doors, and the men and women you know to be your educators, they can't just lose their jobs because the students are being little shits.” Ben watched her raise a finger to point to the door, “There are younger students that are hundreds of times more focused than Armitage--willing to do whatever they need to get what they want. Yeah,” she nodded, “You arent the first and won't be the last that he tries that with. I’m proud of you that you were able to stick up for yourself, Benjamin.”

Ben could only nod in response. 

“It’s why I’ve allowed a lot of the innocent pranking that’s been going on, because we too need a good laugh here and there.”

The thought of a bunch of adults getting a kick out of what was happening to Armitage and well, him too, made him lighter. Happier. It’d been enough to get him to laugh along with Mrs. Holdo, and he _ could not _ wait to let Rey know. 

\----

Rey’s image came up on his phone, the one he found he loved, the one that mirrored the way she looked at him in his room, and he answered on the first ring. 

“Hey,” he said walking down the hallway through the crowd of people around him. His confidence felt like it was radiating off of his skin. 

“Hey yourself,” Rey replied. 

“You wanna go?”

“Go?”

“You know,  _ go _ ?” Ben rolled his eyes suggesting they’d go out to get out of the building, anywhere but there. 

“I-I’d love to,” Rey smiled brightly. 

“Where are you?” he asked. 

“Where else?”

“I’ll meet you there,” his thumb nearly brushed against the end call button when he heard her add that he sounded different. “I feel different,” he said with a little less confidence.

“I love it, Ben. I’ll see you in a few.”

His world seemed to stand still then. The breath in his lungs had been forced out of him at the sound of her words. She loved it? 

___

He could hear arguing outside of class. Armitage and Rey going at it, having Mr. Andor holding Armitage back from Rey and several classmates holding Rey back from him. 

“Ow!” Ben heard his girl hiss at one of them. 

“PROOF, its fucking PROOF that you were doing it! Right there! Can't you see it?” Hux yelled. 

“You shoved me into the wall you idiot!” 

“You’re not going to bleed from a wall!”

“Why don't you go look at the wall! What do you see on there? _ Oh, are those knives? Oh, I had no idea!” _

Mrs. Holdo was right. Mr. Andor already looked like he was tired of this bullshit, the red light above the door was already flashing like they were in some penitentiary or something and all he could think of was how funny it was to hear her say, Hux deserved it. 

“What the hell is going on in here?” Ben strode in ready to take the lot by storm. 

Instead he’d been brushed off like he was nothing. Armitage spit more curses in his girl’s direction and he shook the need to participate. If he had, the kid would have lost some teeth. Instead he went to Rey’s side, waving off the other students holding her. 

“What happened?” he murmured in her ear, loving the way she leaned in towards him. 

“Your friend is being an ass and assaulted me,” she said, showing him the knicks she’d gotten from the linoleum knives and other metal tools that had been magnetized for safety. Not that they were in this situation, but Hux was a  _ situation _ . “I’m fine. They’re little and just on my hands.”

They were already bandaged but one she was obviously nursing with her mouth, the stain of it showing on her lips. 

Ben hadn’t stood back up to his full height, not yet. Instead, he offered his hand, then a soft question muttered between the two of them. “Do you still want to get outta here with me?”

Rey nodded, then looked at him like she was seeing him again for the first time. 

“Let’s go,” she whispered back. 

As unsteady as he felt, Ben still managed to sling Rey’s bag over his shoulder with her in tow, the both of them left without another word.

___

The next few days Ben insisted on picking Rey up in the morning before school. He’d briefly seen who he assumed was the shadow of her father, offered a friendly wave but nothing came back in return. He noted this but didn’t ask. Rey never brought up her parents and if he learned anything in these last few months it was definitely  _ not _ to push her. 

She’d bring it up when she was ready. 

Speaking of ready, with the art show practically taking up the majority of the school, it was time for that too. 

“Ben?” Rey asked softly while they set up their corner of the show that somehow made it in the gallery itself.

“Yeah?” he answered, wheeling in the last cart she requested. 

Their corner consisted of a few tables, a monitor she expected to put Ben’s interview up on a loop up on the wall to the left. Their quick sketches filled the wall in a layered fashion, one that was noticeable and messy for what he assumed was a good reason. One he couldn’t exactly tell, not yet at least. Newsprint seemed to go as high as the eye could travel up the white, pin pressed wall from seasons passed, all the way back down to the floor, scattering around an open book that could never have held such large pages. She twisted their corners inward and glued them to the binding. 

He unwrapped and set the rest of their work in the sections she’d numbered on tables around them. Paintings were hung and her sculptures all had a place which was exciting to see the room coming together when he found the hunter’s pose she’d done earlier. It looked as if it was cracked and worried that she might think that it was damaged while moving it around. 

“Uh, Rey?” he asked for her attention and she gladly got up to stand by his side. “I think this is broken?”

“Nah, she answered, it’s just the glaze. It’s supposed to crackle like that. I figured it would help talk about our figures in a way that could be left to the imagination.”

“And that is?”

“That no matter how broken we may seem, there’s always someone there for us to put us back together.”

Ben looked over his guy again noting the addition of girth between his legs. It was just like all the rest, simply not more than it had to be without the obvious indication that she did see him as a man. That was sort of exciting, in a weird, “I finally feel seen kind of way,” Ben thought. 

Rey shrugged and sank back down to the floor to finish the last piece that sat before their installation. He watched while she titled their show, “Trials and Errors: An Exhibition Exploring the Temptation of Good and Evil by Rey Sands and” 

“Why’d you stop?” he asked her.

“We’ll, I’m not the only artist here, Ben,” Rey answered holding up the ink brush. 

Ben shrugged promising it would be neater than her markings which he gladly accepted her playful shove before sitting down beside her to do it. He could feel her watching him, making sure he dipped the brush just so, dragged the brush from the rim to the tip to release the excess and he took a significant amount of joy in knowing this process. 

“I’ll have you know, I’m  _ am _ skilled in this…” Ben’s words died on his tongue. She wasn't watching what he was doing, she was watching him…but it seemed to him that she was in some sort of a trance. “Hey,” he said, calling her back from it. “Where’d you go?”

Ben watched Rey blink herself back, apologizing for that as she did. “Sorry, I’ve just, I’ve had some things on my mind, and I’m just battling with what to do with them.”

“You know you can tell me, right?” he felt as though he was being way too willing to be pulled into the mess but whatever it was, it couldn't have been as bad as the one with Hux. Somehow he’s spent the rest of the week avoiding the guy while running off with Rey. These days have actually been the most fun in all his life if he Haddish to measure their worth to him, that is. 

“I do,” she paused, then looked at him, right into his eyes, as if she was anchoring herself to him before she even began to speak. 

Ben’s body hummed a promise that she’d be safe there with him. 

And it was all it took.

“I’m the one behind the art…”

“Yes, I know. This is all mostly you,” he started.

“No I mean the last few months - the  _ graffiti, _ ” she hinted at him, but still Ben hadn’t realized what she’d been trying to mention. 

“Where?” he asked.

“ _ OhmygodBen _ , I drew the dicks!” she whisper shouted at him. 

Ben could feel his mouth drop open then close only to do it again. 

“Noooo,” he replied, giving in to Hux’s theory. 

“It’s true. All of it.”

“Wait, why did you do it to me? I can understand Armitage…”

“Now,” Rey corrected him. “Now you can understand why I did with Armitage. You were so oblivious, Ben. It didn't matter if I was direct with you, you just couldn't understand that he was bullying you.”

“And so you thought drawing one pointed at me was going to change all that?” he cocked his head to the side while his smile started to fade. 

“It  _ did  _ though. Don’t you see?” Rey reached out to take the brush from his hand and place it back in the open well. “You learned how to see it happening in real time.” 

“Opposed to what exactly?”

“Ben, you weren’t even processing it. I’d go up to the plate for you each time,” Ben remembered it, all the ways she would make sure he was alright. She broke his comfort zone and rebuilt it. She helped him in so many ways that when he’d heard it, he couldn't quite believe what she said. “Ben you went from the weird kid people ignored to the handsome guy that makes me feel safe. I’ve never had anyone give me such peace... “

“And a bunch of dicks did that for us?” Ben couldn't help the way that cracked his concentration. He wanted to feel this, to be moody about how she drew that giant penis behind him that night, how stupid he felt for recording himself going crazy over the find… what it did to his website was unfathomable. But the fact of the matter was, he couldn't stop grinning like an idiot. Holdo’s message about how funny it was to get Hux losing his shit over penises was more than enough to tip his scale. Ben began to chuckle at the thought, dropping his head down on his arm that rested over the book itself. “I mean they weren’t even good. For being an art major, I would have expected some high quality renderings - not just a stick and berries.” 

His whole frame shook thanks to the way he laughed uncontrollably. 

Each one was considerably worse than the last but he kept that information to himself. Instead, he only laughed harder.

“Oh, shut it,” she pushed at his shoulders. 

Ben happened to look up in that moment and see the way she remained there, challenging him to stop with her eyes, but her lips, they said something completely different. 

“It’s not like I’ve ever seen one before--”

Ben took that as a sign. She was touching him, her lips parted, and eyes begged for a reasonable answer, a promise, really, to keep her safe, and that’s exactly what he was going to do. 

With every fiber of his being, with every thread of his nerve, Ben asked the life altering question dying to fly from his tongue, “Would you like to?” 


	6. Chapter 6

“ _ Would you like to?” _

He heard his question in his mind, felt it roll off his tongue, and yet hung in the moment, there on the floor watching her surprise in slow motion. Blush bloomed brighter in her cheeks with every passing second but at the curve of her lip now held in place by her teeth, Ben felt as though he could hear her thoughts before she spoke them. 

He needed her to say it.

Rey’s tendrils bounced softly at her nod. But still, in all that had transpired over the last few months, what with her claiming she needed his maturity… that she needed his focus, his attention, he never once heard her as loudly as he did now. 

“Yes,” she breathed. “I’d like to…”

Ben focused on the sound of her voice while he reached down to his belt to undo it searching blindly for the button of his slacks just after that. He couldn't believe the way his body responded to her admission. He felt both paralyzed and hypersensitized all at once. Excitement buzzed first in his mind then ran just under his skin before settling around his stiffening girth. It was a known feeling, mainly in the comfort of his own home or more recently hers but out here in the sanctity of school where they could get caught had him trying to control his breathing. 

Rey, however, looked as if she was a wild animal being fed by human hands for the first time. She watched him intently, so much so that he was sure she could feel his heart pulsing through his body as he released himself from his first layer. Her eyes roamed over his bulge just underneath his briefs and chewed the side of her lip hungrily, he thought at least. She wasn’t put off by his choice in undergarments which was a sudden relief in his nervousness. 

Rey continued to watch him while his long thick fingers parted the cotton fabric of his fly as if she was studying for future use. He choked on the very thought of her hands reaching for him, making him impossibly harder, the pressure of finally releasing himself to her came to a sudden end when he sprang free of his briefs. Ben gasped at the cool air hitting his skin as his cock moved to lay on his dress shirt. He’d been too caught in the feeling of being so free to register Rey’s inhale but shifted just slightly to hold himself up to her instead. 

She hadn’t moved much other than a slight shift of her thigh he’d felt against the outside of his. His blood surged through his veins waiting there for her to do what? Gods, he’d let her do anything at all, Ben thought, giving the base of his cock a tight squeeze. He felt the rush of his excitement building inside of him and in it all he finally lifted his eyes to her. 

Rey looked as though she was transfixed on him. One hand rooted itself on the floor next to him while she battled her thoughts, or so it seemed, trying to come to a decision. He watched her while her fingers hovered just halfway between them. She opened and closed her hand trying to decide on what exactly? Ben looked down once more at his throbbing member, now moist at his tip, wondering if he should explain that too. 

“Can I touch you, Ben?” she asked softly.

Ben’s head dropped back down to the floor. Her question swept through his ears, rattling all conscious thought which made it difficult to reason with, much less, think. His body seemed to time out along with it, the promise of a possibility of her touching him, even after he’d screwed up over and over again made his throat run dry. Ben swallowed harshly enough to pull her attention off of his unit to check on him.

_ Yes _ , he wanted to scream, “T-Touch me, Rey,” he gasped as if it was an absolute struggle to tell her what he wanted. It shouldn’t have been, not really anyway. She’d taught him so much about himself over the course of the last few months, how well she could listen when he showed her exactly what she expected of him, his maturity, his true presence, he could control her. He could calm her, give her exactly what she needed… but in that moment it was all he could do, fully erect and exposed, there in that public space, to beg for her to touch him through shuddering breaths. “Do it,” he added, pressing his hips up to strain every last bit of himself up to her.

It was pure torture to wait for her next move. Her eyes roved over his body which he began to struggle with, wondering just how much of him she truly wanted, but when the heat of her fingertips reached his girth, he could t formulate coherent thoughts. Ben had been thrown back into elementary thought, such basic blabber he barely felt like himself.

Good, warm, need… these thoughts and notations to physical movements were all he could muster up. Nothing made sense anymore, instead he’d been enlightened by the simplicity of her touch and the raging sea of hormones bubbling in his veins. 

  
  


Rey was delicate with him. Her fingertips drew across his soft skin which brushed just over his length and ascended towards his tip before ending their connection. He rolled his head to the side in protest trying to hide the needy moan desperately charging out of his throat. He watched her part her lips, her tongue darting out to coat them before touching him again. Ben could only tighten his grip on himself in response. This time the pad of her thumb brushed the sensitive skin just below his head which made his eyes roll back into his head, indefinitely. 

Ben could only imagine what focus she could apply had she been willing to wrap her tiny hand around his shaft. These thoughts… These needs came out of the woodwork. Every sigh pushed a new idea through him, the signature of his deepest desires poured through him in earnest while Ben lied back and revealed in her assessment of him. 

She was equally terrifying in her silence as she was mesmerizing. For a long moment he had to decipher whether or not she was truly there with him and not a mirage of pure need. That would be the worst way to be found, laying on the gallery floor playing with himself in his hazy mind lusting over his girl to touch him. Oh, what would he say to get out of that one… what would people do? Lay around the halls stroking themselves? Ben shakes the image from his mind, coming back to Rey’s telltale note taking sounds. 

Her light touches continued, none of which registered as more than a few traces of her fingertips when she finally asked him why he was holding himself so tightly. 

Ben choked again on his spit trying to formulate the best way to tell her he’d been trying to control himself when he felt her fingers lightly move his away to take him in her hand. He could hardly breathe. The feel of her hand around him was so unreal that all the air left his lungs at once and his eyes flew to her face again. Ben’s palms braced themselves on the cold tile floor on either side of him while Rey gathered him up in her palm, her fingers delicately wrapped around his cock, then moved gently up his shaft. 

Ben was sure she purred at the feel of him, complementing both his soft skin and proud, thick girth on her upstroke. She watched in what looked like amazement at the change his tip took with the pressure she gave and the slight snap of her wrist back down him.

It was magic. 

Fucking magic… 

That’s what it felt like. Fucking magic. She had his heart and mind all in the palm of her hand and she… well… she…

Rey was curious but in a way he could only accept as true care. It made his heart skip a beat or several because of it. Sure, she was figuring this out but she wasn’t as rough or careless as her personality seemed throughout the last few months he’d gotten to spend with her. Her touches were feather light at times and experimental. He felt her shift her weight yet again, this time to straddle his thighs, giving her the heady opportunity to hold him with two hands instead of one.

Her head tilted while he shuddered underneath her touch, his hips ached to thrust up into her hands, but he had swallowed hard trying to remember all he’d offered her was a chance to find out, not one to lay her. 

That was not the easiest thing to allow, especially here at school, and yet she was several steps ahead while Ben did his best to keep up.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” Rey asked, her hands stilling momentarily, resting softly around his shaft.

Ben could feel the way his blood pulsed heavily through his veins. He grunted while shifting on the floor slightly looking for the friction he needed but failed to say a word. 

He watched her shake her head while her face fell which made him grunt again. It was all he could do to stop her from leaving.

“No!” he protested. “I didn’t expect you to… ya know… and you are… and  _ fuck _ ,” he moaned, tentatively reaching to hold her anywhere. 

Rey squeezed him when he moved her this time which made him hiss with satisfaction. She was back, even if she didn’t know what it was she was doing to him.

“You-you don’t know… do you?” Ben groaned. 

“...don’t know what?” she asked softly.

Her voice sounded timid in a way that wasn’t present before. She’d been so alive in every single moment that he’d wondered if she’d been that way as a front. Ben’s brow furrowed at the sound of it. Had he read her wrong? 

“I mean there’s plenty I don’t know,” she pursed her lips and looked away from him around at all of their work, “but there’s so much to learn, to practice…”

_ There was another one of her hints! _

Ben smiled. It was all he could really do. His question died on his tongue far before he had the nerve to say what he thought. One of her warm hands left him, moving with the rest of her upper body to reach for him. She braced her other hand around him struggling to still stroke him while she pinned both her hand and his girth between them. Her lips found his quickly which made slowing her efforts terribly difficult. 

Ben wanted her energy. He wanted her fervor. He found himself needing this rhythm she’d set for them and didnt bother stopping the sensational wave that overtook them either. All he could do was continue rolling within the rippling current of her desire, his body screaming for her touch even though she was. 

It was not enough. 

It could never be enough. 

His heart raced and his blood singed for more until she began to move down him. Her lips brushed along his jaw in a way that made him feel desperate for her to come back. 

Ben swallowed wondering what she could possibly be doing, her hand moved from the cold tile onto his shoulder as if she was bracing herself there, the other hand still covered him, and that's when he felt it. Heat like nothing he’d ever felt land on his exposed skin. It was soft and wet and he was going to  _ die _ …

Ben let out a loud gasp, one that called attention to them. 

Heavy footsteps clomped over to their direction and he knew it… there were dead.

Despite his dread, Rey shifted over him, her hot, wet lips parted carefully down him in small strokes, keeping his attention on her and only her. 

And oh, how he watched her...

Ben blanched though at the thought of being caught. He couldn’t help it. They would be dead. His parents would kill him, and her, and they’d… they’d go to jail for indecent exposure…

“Play dead,” he heard her say. 

“What?” Ben could barely make out back to her before she ground down onto him. The sensation of her made him feel like he was on something, he guessed, but closed his eyes on her glare. 

“ _ And what do you think you’re doing?” _

_ Oh shit, Mr. Andor _ , Ben groaned internally. 

“Setting up,” Rey replied, snippy as ever. 

Ben forced himself not to react but could feel himself shrinking at the intrusion of her teacher. 

Rey must have felt it too, her efforts to make him stay hadnt been missed either. Her soft flesh still laid parted over him while her arousal began soaking him. Her soft movements, grinding her hips against him for… he eyes rolled under his eyelids thinking about the every bit of  _ more _ he wanted to give her.

_ He was dead though… dead.  _

_ If she got up and exposed him… their lives would have been over. _

“It looks like a bit more than setting up, Rey,” Mr. Andor continued, waving a suggestive hand over the two of them. 

“You’re right, it is. See,” Ben could see her in his head now, her tone showing off what she would exactly be doing as she explained herself. “...and another thing, this is for the sake of art. You’re not going to deprive me of my grade, are you?”

Its at that point where having his eyes closed and listening to his girl defend them that he had fallen asleep on that cold hard floor. 

There was no telling how long he’d been out, but when he came to, he was in the dark. 

_ What the hell?  _ He wondered where everyone had gone and both why and how he’d been moved. Briefly he remembered his mother telling him that he could sleep through just about anything and worried that he put Rey in a position to have to move him for him. His mind raced, searching the room for her until she came into view. Rey was no longer covering him with her uniform skirt but with a red, flowing, silk fabric that wrapped around her in the most luxurious way. She looks like a fucking goddess, Ben corrected himself, she is a goddess. Which one? He doesn't know, but he's sure she’s going to get everything she wants from him without ever having to ask. 

Ben then notices a second pair of hands that aren't hers and has the sudden urge to attack them. 

“Thank you,” Rey whispers to her helper, then looks down at him, stopping his thoughts completely. “Oh good, you’re awake. I didnt want to do this to you without you knowing. It seemed wrong.”

“Do what?” Ben croaked. 

“Apply white body paint to you,” she paused then continued. “I thought about it while we were sort of making out,” the thought of her voicing it sent a thrill through him that required so much more attention. “... well, I thought if you were up for it, we could act something out? Like a death scene? I thought that would be pretty cool. And maybe if you didnt feel comfortable being bare to our student body we could wear body paint so they could see your form but not necessarily you.”

“ _ You want to be naked with me in front of everyone? _ ” he choked on his tongue while asking his most pressing question.

“I think it would be a powerful move. And we’d look like sculptures and get our point across at the same time.”

Ben looked away from her for a moment, realizing the sea of glass and liquified tea lights that immediately surrounded them. Some had been stacked on top of the silk that elegantly flowed from her form out into the room, Rae into the darkness.

“What’s, what's all this?” he asked, unsure of how to answer her. Did he want to do this? Did she? Of course she does, he rolled his eyes at himself. She wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble, he thought. 

“Well, it’s setting the scene. Anything large is considered an installation,” Rey said as a matter of factly. 

“Like what you did to Armitage’s locker?” Ben asked, trying to hide his growing smile. 

“Just like that,” she replied. “Except…” Rey paused, her features became much softer then, “Call it what you will, pride mostly, jealousy kind of, I found myself not wanting to share if you did decide to do this with me. So I put an array of items around us to keep anyone from getting too close.”

Ben could only nod, then added, “You’d be jealous?”

Rey smirked, “That’s what you got out of this?”

His thoughtfulness hadn’t been able to catch up with the weight of his promises. He knew he’d said something along the lines of promising himself to her, that she didn’t ever have to wonder who his heart belonged to. Ben told her he’d always support her ideas even if it required body paint and exposed them to the school instead of to the confines of her bedroom where they should have been instead of the damned school. 

Her laugh started softly and slowed the moment he’d reached for the applicant in her hands. 

Ben tossed it aside, the metal clanking loudly against the floor until it slid to a stop. 

“So no to the body paint?” she asked curiously. 

“No. No paint, it’ll take away from your flavor,” he grimaced inwardly over his choice of words but she seemed into it. 

“Wow…” was all she could say, quickly mirrored by yet another voice that wasn’t his. 

Apparently in all their hard work exploring each other and building their scene they had completely overlooked their time. The show had started and the sun had gone down, setting the stage for their dramatic scene. He could feel a change in him. What was once fear, there was now resolve. He was stronger now, willing to preform in whatever way she needed and yet when he looked up to see if she was ready for this, she was not. Her body responded in what he knew all too well, fear. 

“Rey,” he whispered to her to regain her attention. Her eyes dilated at the sight of him. The very fact had sent a wave of heat over his skin before he could say another word. 

“Why can’t I move?” she whispered her question. 

“You’re scared…” he answered her. “Just like I was…”

“You were of this?” 

“Well, yeah,” Ben replied honestly. 

“Of me?” she asked slowly. 

“I mean a little?” Ben corrected himself, “Alright, a lot. I mean never really knew how out of touch I was with life,” he reached his hands to settle on her parted thighs that covered his hips, his mouth hanging open at her boldness.

Aside from his chest and feet he never once really realized he was bare to her. Was it why she offered the paint? Was she going to tell him? A blink or two later he blushed and hard, watching how the fabrics of her dress wrapped around her, revealing far more to him than what had been to their audience.she was just as uncovered as he was, less the wrapping around her waist and practical curtain that ran down her arm to a gold band on her wrist. She technically had the ability to shield him totally if he hated her idea and expose herself in the process. 

Ben frowned at this. 

It just wouldn’t do. No one would get to lay eyes on her besides him, regardless of if it were a project that was worth her grade or not. 

Ben shifted beneath her, straining his form just so, making their performance art believable, even if for just a little while. 

Another element of light and shadow began to cascade down her dress, making it look as if it were flowing in the wind or beneath the sea, both of which hid her movements. 

Rey began to move, ever so slightly over his body, making him shiver. 

She’d ask him questions of pleasure, ones of pain and his hopes after this whole thing. Each time her face changed and her body moved as if they were telling a tragic story. One of her weeping over him… one he could completely believe if he ever did pass. It’s just how connected he felt… that is until he did his best to pull himself up, finding her mirroring the words that left him before in the same nerdy fashion he had when his weeping tip hit penetrated her heat. 

Fuck, he hissed through gritted teeth, trying to control himself from thrusting further into her. 

Her cry was silent, her mouth hanging open as she led herself down the rest of his thick shaft. Inch by inch she gritted her teeth to save them from the wail she promised she was trying to keep in. By the time Rey had finally ground down against the base of his cock he couldn’t believe how much she had changed. 

It was as if she’d been pulled right back to her surroundings. There were people here. So many silhouettes crowded around them and their performance that she couldn’t help but freeze. 

Ben felt it in her core too. 

She squeezed him but just slightly willing him to stop moving… that they were in way over their heads. 

The only words that made sense now were those of her own, the very same that had frightened him all that time ago. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he started, holding her closely to his chest. Ben’s arms wrapped protectively around her, both showing her and shielding the crowd his intentions. 

“What?” she asked, still breathlessly handling his size.

“Give them a death scene they’ll remember then we’ll head to your place. Maybe take care of this connection we have between us?” He added breathily, his eyes wild and dark as hers.

“But—but you’ll be exposed. You aren’t wearing anything,” she whispered, her mouth going slack with every tiny movement while he’s rooted inside of her. “ _ Fuck that’s good, _ ” she whimpers.

Ben smirks, then adds, “I’m wearing you and that’s enough for me.” Ben’s eyes roll back into his head as her walls clench around him. In that moment he’s lost in sensation, he holds her just so, smiling sweetly while she brushes back his hair then lunges in to kiss him soundly. 

Gasps are heard all around, faint whispers lick their ears, but in that and every moment to come, he’s certain the only sounds he’ll ever care about are hers, and he’s desperate now… so desperate to hear every one. Ben’s lips part from Rey’s, slumping then dropping his form from hers back down to the floor. Ben roars his final sound and Rey follows, whimpering as she rocked forward to keep him from hitting his head. The jester had been kind enough but his cock began to throb with the slow but constant attention. Her heat had been driving him wild and now he needed her to move. He needed her to let him take her...

But most of all, they needed to get out of there. 

Ben blinked back his desire and reached out for one of the broken shards of glass and all the while she stared into his eyes as if she was searching for something. He promised himself he’d restore her, give her back her free spirit as he slid both it and his hand under her skirt. The cool face of the glass made her shiver and he wondered what else he could do, if she might react differently to the feel of him instead. Ben couldn’t help where his mind trailed off to while he fought himself to stay focused. 

Most importantly, though, he imagined her never leaving his side. 

“What do you say we get out of here, sweetheart?” he offered softly.

A light had shown within her eyes. One that truly brought her back to him.

“Lead the way, Ben. I’ll always follow you…” she whispered. 

It was the last thing he needed to hear before shoving the sharp point of the shard in his hand into the silk that bunched around her legs. He tore it effortlessly, freeing her from the confines of the rubble she set herself in. His jerky movements toppled over stacked candles, setting the excessive amounts of fabric left there on fire, to which he added, “this is exactly why Holdo needs this show, to pay for the damages we’ve made throughout the year.”

Rey snorts, then holds onto his shoulders as he suggests her to, saying, “that’s not why!”

“It is,” Ben grinned as he pulled her up with him. 

“I swear it’s isn’t.”

“I promise it is.”

“You lie,”

“I’d never. Not to you,” he promised. 

It was another right move tonight down the list of many. Ben felt her change as he did. He felt stronger, more sure of himself as he moved through the school.

Rey felt weightless and content in his arms. She hadn’t made a move to get down or tell him to stop so he took their moment to make an exit, not caring that the door just to the left of them was known for setting off the sprinkler system. 

Her squeal was out of pure delight he noted as they passed through the threshold. Joy that he’d created this for her spread through his chest like wildfire and while Ben did his best to stay in this moment with her he could only imagine all of their next steps together. 

  
  
  



End file.
